


and in this world of strangers i belong to someone

by thispapermoon



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post S3 finale fic, Smut, Two witches in love, tw: discussions of past abuse, tw: discussions of past ed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2019-11-25 22:49:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18172475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thispapermoon/pseuds/thispapermoon
Summary: Her broom is in her hand before she can think twice about it. Only thinks twice once she’s mounted and the window’s open, once the fields are growing closer beneath her and she’s crossing the border for the first time in decades. But there’s no pain. No electrical voltage through her nerves. No crippling, painful confusion to drive her back towards the castle.The air is crisp, and fresh, and light.And she isfree.****After being released from her Confinement there’s only one place Hecate wants to go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think this will probs be 3 parts but each part can stand alone.

The lifting of the curse has made her body feel lighter, freer. Or perhaps that’s simply the relief of thirty years of guilt and pain, washed away by a twisting storm and Indigo’s hand firmly in her own, their voices joined together in song - more powerful feeling than any spell that she knows, to be sure.

She can still feel the warmth of Indigo against her skin. So different from the cold, silent stone that she’s clung on to in the forest for years and years, desperate and desperately sorry, mourning and alone.

Alone.

Her heart trips in her chest and she has to reach out to steady herself on a nearby bookshelf.

Alone.

Never has it been possible, before, to be anything other than alone. She gazes out at how the grounds drop away from below her window, and her mind spins dizzily as she looks out across the fields that stretch beyond the borders of Cackle’s.

Her broom is in her hand before she can think twice about it. Only thinks twice once she’s mounted and the window’s open, once the fields are growing closer beneath her and she’s crossing the border for the first time in decades. But t    here’s no pain. No electrical voltage through her nerves. No crippling, painful confusion to drive her back towards the castle.

The air is crisp, and fresh, and light.

And she is _free._

There’s still a whirling in her ears, still a dizzying tilting sensation, and she watches as cars - so different looking now that thirty years before - crawl along the road below her. She veers west and soon there’s simply lush forest, and blue sky, and it’s green, and blue, and green and blue, and -

The tears come thickly, catching the wind even as she wipes them away. She urges her broom faster, body trembling at the strain of such a long flight. She’s no longer used to it, she realizes. She’s so much less the witch she was before. The realization nearly makes her turn back, but she’s studied this route on the map far too many times, worn a raw spot in the ink of the parchment that shows the path between Cackle’s and Pentangle’s.

Whispered promises she’s known she’ll never be able to keep. Words that she’ll never let Pippa hear, uttered into the dark of night as she’s wept to think of Pippa. Pippa who asks her to tea. To lectures. To botanical expositions. Pippa who has all but gone silentas of late after one too many rebuffs from Hecate.

 _“You always make me come to Cackle’s”_ Pippa had accused her _. “You never come out to Pentangle’s. I know you disprove of the school, of my methods, but it’s something I’m proud of. And if you can’t be - if you can’t try to at least support me even a little - if it bothers you this much - perhaps it’s best if we don’t try to make things work.”_

Pippa, of course, had meant their friendship.

And Hecate had watched her fly off into the sunset and had gone to bed sick with tears. She hadn’t slept at all that night.

Twisting her palms against the wood of the handle, she kicks the broom into a higher gear, panting slightly at the exertion. Her back aches, her arms tremble.

She wonders if Pippa will want to see her at all.

Pentangle’s appears in the distance and she’s weeping again.

It’s a magnificent castle - pale stone and tall turrets - it’s Pippa’s home. _Pippa_.

 _I’m coming as soon as I can, Pippa,_ she whispers through her tears, gulping at the air that whizzes past her through her mouth and into her lungs. _I’m coming_.

She’s filled with such a needy longing, flying recklessly now, desperate to reunite with Pippa now that she can finally, finally give her the whole of herself. When she can finally hold her close and explain.

She nears the castle and follows the thread of Pippa’s magic up to the tallest turret. The windows are large and she pushes out, magic nearly spent from a day that’s wrung her dry, and they spring open, wind blowing in behind her as she tumbles through and into the room, stumbling as she drops her broom beside her and whirls around looking for - looking for -

Pippa’s risen suddenly and stands staring. And Hecate’s tripping forward, arms thrown around her neck, clutching her close, clinging to her as she finally breaks. Pippa’s body is warm and flush against her and she can’t help but pull her all the closer still, can’t help but bury her nose in her neck, breath her in through tears, trembling in her arms as Pippa’s hands come up and clutch her back.

“Hecate - what -“

Hecate can only shake her head. “I’m here,” she cries. “I’m here.”

Pippa’s hands soften against her, one hand moving to cup the back of Hecate’s head.

“I’m sorry,” Hecate gasps, “I’m so sorry.”

“Darling,” Pippa whispers, breath just by Hecate’s ear. “Darling, you’re scaring me. What’s happened, are you alright?”

Hecate pulls back then, wiping at her eyes, then jumps in alarm when she realizes that there’s a witch sitting in the arm chair across from Pippa’s staring at her.

Immediately Hecate runs cold, backing away from Pippa and back towards the window, but Pippa catches her wrist.

“Abigail, do you think we might continue this conversation at a later date?”

Abigail, who Hecate notes is very pretty, raises an eyebrow. “As long as you can promise it’s a date.”

Pippa blushes, eyes flickering in Hecate’s direction, and Abigail looks put out.

“That’s what I thought.”

She’s up and out of her chair, cloak materializing around her as she goes, and Pippa doesn’t try to stop her. She pauses by the door and looks back. “Avery said you were hung up on your ex, but I had no idea.” She looks between them and shrugs. “Good luck?”

She’s gone and Pippa twists her hands together, not looking at Hecate. But Hecate can’t contain the small noises that are still fighting their way out of her, tiny, ill contained slips of distress, and relief, and pain. Pippa looks up at the sound and takes her hands.

“Hecate - ?”

“I’ve interrupted your date.” It’s too painful, on top of everything, to think of Pippa moving on, and she sways, dismayed at her own selfish assumption that Pippa would simply wait for her.

Pippa blinks. “It was just coffee. I knew it wasn’t going to work out after five minutes.” Her hands move and suddenly she’s cupping Hecate’s face between her palms. “I always know it’s not going to work out after five minutes.”

“Always?”

Sighing, Pippa tucks a damp strand of hair that’s blown free from Hecate’s bun behind her ear. “Always.”

“Why -“

“They’re not you.” Pippa says simply, and there’s a look in her eyes, searching and vulnerable and Hecate shuts her own eyes and sways forward.  “Easy,” Pippa urges, catching her by the elbows. Her arms hook around Hecate’s waist and Hecate finds her fingers tangling in the back on Pippa’s dress, digging into the soft skin of her hips.

“What’s happened,” Pippa whispers, nose nearly against hers. “Hecate, please tell me. I’ve never see you quite like this.”

Hecate can only shake her head, tears coming thick and fast, too exhausted to give words to what she knows she must say. The apologies she must make. The years she longs to make up for. Her body wracks with a tremulous shudder and she realizes just how much of her weight Pippa’s holding up.

“May I transfer us?” Pippa murmurs, hands strong and firm against her back and Hecate shivers through a nod, teeth chattering as she shudders again violently.

The world goes blissfully empty for a moment and suddenly she’s in a bedroom - Pippa’s bedroom - standing beside a soft, downy looking bed and Pippa’s guiding her down. Hecate’s arms lock around her waist, holding her fast.

“Don’t leave me,” she begs, too far gone to care how it might sound. “Please. Please don’t leave me.”

Pippa stills, her fingers cool and gentle against Hecate’s cheek. Suddenly there’s a pile of night things next to them on the bed and Pippa’s reaching for a soft, pale nightdress.

“I’m here,” she whispers, “I’m right here. May I?” Hecate ducks a nod and feels the fabric of her dress melt into cool, clean cloth, as Pippa performs the transfer.

Pippa’s fingers busy themselves in her hair, and in a moment it’s long and loose around Hecate’s face. And then Pippa’s hands are against her scalp, easing the tension there, and Hecate’s face is pressing to her blouse as she weeps. She weeps until she can no more, and then thoroughly spent, allows Pippa to guide her onto the bed and beneath the covers.

“I - I - “ she tries, and suddenly Pippa’s in a night dress as well, though the sun is still high and bright in the windows above them.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Hecate nods, body aching as though coming out of a long and deadly fever, and Pippa helps her adjust over and slips into the bed beside her. Carefully Hecate feels herself pulled back to rest against Pippa’s warm body, rendered softer still through the loss of undergarments and the thinness of her nightdress. It makes her tense, then melt, then tense, and Pippa lays a gentle hand on her back, grounding her. “Is this alright?”

Hecate nods, nose bumping against Pippa’s collarbone as she tries to will her trembling muscles to relax. Pippa’s hand begins a comforting journey up and down the length of her back, and Hecate goes limp, breath coming in strained gasps as exhaustion grips her lungs. “Keep breathing,” Pippa murmurs. And Hecate can feel the way the sound of her words vibrates through her chest and into her own. She shuts her eyes, fingers tightening against Pippa’s nightdress.

Her head is suddenly pounding, and Pippa’s breathing softly beside her, warm against her. She thinks there’s no possible way she’ll sleep now, but even as the idea comes to her, she feels darkness pulling at the edges of her vision.

Pippa’s hand is still working along her back, the pressure just the right amount, soothing in a way that Hecate’s longed for all her life. She presses closer and lets herself fall.

_____

When she wakes, there’s only a faint band of orange along the rim of the horizon, and the room around her is dark and quiet. The bed beside her is empty and she shuts her eyes again, stomach uneasy and head fuzzy. She feel dehydrated and achy, and slowly pushes herself up, shivering in the air, even as it calms the fire that still flames along her tear-blushed cheeks. The sheets beside her are cool, and for a moment she considers that if she had the magic in her, if she could transfer her way back to Cackle’s.

But she knows she doesn't.

And she knows she can’t go back there.

Not yet. Not this soon.

Not now.

Slowly, she disentangles herself from the warmth of the blankets. The floor is cool against her feet and she stands cautiously, hair streaming down her back as she reaches for a shawl that’s been left at the foot of the bed, pulling it around her. The wool is soft and creamy, and she pulls it up to her nose as it passes around her shoulders. It smells like Pippa, and she catches it up and holds it to her face, eyes closing for a moment as she simply stands in the dark seeking comfort.

But it’s a pale substitution and she straightens, frowning slightly at the faint strains of music that she can hear from the next room and the light that breaks from under the darkness of the door.

She crosses on quiet feet and pushes it open.

Pippa’s sitting on the floor, typing furiously on her maglet. There’s tea before her and a plate of half eaten donuts. The phonograph in the corner crackles a little as the song switches and Pippa looks up, pulling her glasses off as she gazes at Hecate in surprise.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” She rises, and Hecate can’t help the way she wants to reach for her and feel the weight of her body through the warm sweater that she now wears over a pair of leggings. “I was hoping you’d sleep through the night, you seemed exhausted. How are you feeling?”

She’s hovering in front of Hecate now, and Hecate tugs the shawl more tightly around her and shrugs. Speaking seems like a great effort, and Pippa places a light hand on her elbow and guides her forward onto a pouf by the fire. There’s suddenly a warm cup of tea in her hands, and a tall glass of cool water floating at her elbow, and Pippa’s kneeling on the pouf beside her, looking at her in concern.

“I received a call from Mildred Hubble,” she says, and her eyes are dark with worry. “She wanted to know if you were here. She was a bit distressed - Hecate - I don’t want to press, but it concerns me that she would be the one to call and not Ada. It seems the school is in an uproar about your disappearance.”

Hecate ducks her head and sets the teacup aside, feeling sick with shame. “I should have left a note.”

Pippa hesitates, fingers twisting in the fringe of her pillow. “It seems that a great deal occurred at the school today. Over the last few years, really. Of course, I’ve only heard a little. And I didn’t press Mildred. I thought that if you wanted me to know, that I ought to wait until you were ready to tell me. But I must admit how worried I am for you - you showing up here after all this time - and in such distress. Whatever were you running from?”

Hecate gasps a little at that, fingers digging into the fabric of her nightgown, just above her knee.

“Not from,” she manages.

Pippa tilts her head.

Slowly, slowly, Hecate takes a breath. “You asked why I never came to Pentangle’s.” She sucks in more air and looks around the room at the high, vaulted ceilings. Thae the rolling green hills beyond. The calming and well appointed decor. “It wasn’t out of lack of desire.”

Pippa bites her lip. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Hecate bows her head. “Before you came to Cackle’s, I was different. I went by a different name - “

“Yes, Joy. I’d heard that -“

Hecate shakes her head and Pippa quiets. “You were my only friend -“

“Hecate - “

“You were. I never wanted you to be my friend - “ she looks up then, desperate for Pippa to understand, “ - but I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t help but be your friend. Even though everything within me told me that it was unwise.”

Hecate knows Pippa can’t understand, not yet, and hurries on, heart hammering at the hurt in Pippa’s eyes. “You were - “ she pauses for the word, “magnetic.”

Pippa blushes, and Hecate bites her lip, fingers curling as she tries to steady her breathing.

“You were my best friend. And I told you everything. About my parents. About Broomhead - before I came to Cackle’s. Everything. Except one thing.”

“Yes?” Pippa’s lips are parted and she’s staring at Hecate, eyes bright and Hecate has to look away, ashamed.

“Before you came to Cackle’s, there was a girl named Joy. And her best friend was an ordinary girl by the name of Indigo Moon.”

Slowly, haltingly, Hecate recounts the most difficult secret of her life. Her confinement. Her years of guilt and isolation. Pippa listens in rapt attention, tears on her cheeks, hand finding Hecate’s own.

“Today Ada lifted the spell,” she whispers, eyes back on Pippa’s, pleading with her for forgiveness. “For the first time in thirty years -“

“You’re free,” Pippa breathes, and looks like she’s hardly breathing.

“It was too hard,” Hecate admits. “Knowing that you had a life ahead of you. A future. And that feeling - feeling the way I felt for you - that I couldn’t ask for you to stay. I had to let you go. And I couldn’t tell you the truth.”

Pippa stares at her, tears tracking freshly down her cheeks. “You - you felt -? For me -?”

Hecate stares into the fire, heart tight as the light dazzles her eyes. She blinks at her own tears and shuts her eyes against the flames. One sense disabled, her ears catch the slow, meandering tune winding its way through the air from the phonograph. It makes her nearly smile and she ducks her chin to her chest, warmed by the memory.

“Do you remember the night of the Leaver’s Ball?”

She can feel Pippa’s frown. “The one that you got bent out of shape about last year - the one where I apparently wore a gold dress and upstaged you?” There’s no bitterness in her voice, merely curiosity and Hecate lets herself remember.

“You looked beautiful.” She opens her eyes and catches Pippa flushing.  “We danced together,” she recalls, insides turning soft and warm. “All night long.”

“I remember,” Pippa whispers, and her eyes are shining. There’s sadness behind the warmth and Hecate rises a little stiffly and pulls Pippa up.

“I held you,” she breathes, pulling Pippa to her by the waist. “Just like this.”

“Yes.”

They’re nose to nose, the music a soft embrace around them, and Hecate lets her limbs loosen, lets herself sway ever so slightly to the melody.

“I wanted to kiss you,” she admits, and Pippa’s eyes widen. “I wanted to show you how I felt.”

“I wished you would,” Pippa’s gripping at her waist now, eyes fixed on her own, and Hecate swallows, inching closer.

She shakes head and pulls back a little, fingers finding Pippa’s cheek. “I think I realized that night what you meant to me. What I hadn’t felt since Indigo - that I hadn’t even realized I _felt_ for Indigo. It felt glorious - until I remembered - remembered -“

“That you were cursed.”

“It was a punishment, not a curse.”

Pippa’s fingers are on her chin, pulling her eyes up. “It was a curse. You were a child. You are allowed to feel whatever you want about it, Hecate. But your guilt doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be angry about what happened to you.”

Tears in her eyes, Hecate let’s Pippa pull her in until her chin is against her shoulder. Pippa’s arms are around her waist and she rocks Hecate to the music, soothing her.

“You can feel about it however you want to, my darling.”

Hecate startles. “Yours?”

She pulls back and looks at PIppa who is biting her bottom lip. “Mine. That is - that is if you - if you still - “

“I never stopped,” Hecate chokes out, and Pippa makes a small sound that sounds like both relief and pain.

She strokes a hand through Hecate’s long hair, gazing up at her, something clouding her eyes suddenly. “That day - the day of the water-skiing tournament. They moved us from Cackle’s to Amulet’s do to inclimate weather.”

Hecate bows her head, but Pippa catches her face, eyes capturing her own. “Hecate -“

“I couldn’t tell you,” she chokes out, trembling all at once again. “I tried to follow you - but the spell - the curse - it - it -“

She closes her eyes recalling the sick, swirling pain that threw her back time and time from the boundary of the castle. “I tried,” she whispered. “But I couldn’t”

“Oh sweetheart,” Pippa pulls her close, locking her tightly against her, holding her as she breaks again, crying out the poisoned years of loneliness and longing. “Oh, my darling. I never imagined such a thing. I’m so, so very sorry.”

Hecate shakes her head. “I made you think I hated you.”

“You did what you thought you had to. You tried to grant me the freedom that no one thought to grant of you.”

Pippa’s crying too again and Hecate catcher her tears against her fingertips.

“After everything,” she gasps, “I cannot ask you to still love me.”

Pippa grabs her face again, eyes desperate, fingers gentle but firm, body pressing up against her until they’re nose to nose. “You can’t ask for something that is inevitable, Hecate Hardbroom. You cannot ask me to love you, because I already do. And you cannot ask me to stop, because I’ve found it quite impossible.”

They stare at each other, breathing hard. “Five minutes,” Pippa whispers breathlessly, lips nearly against Hecate’s. “ _One_ minute after seeing you again and I knew. ‘ _The far seas.’_ Really, Hecate.”

Hecate flushes but can't dwell on it. Not when Pippa’s nose is brushing against hers, not when gentle fingers are guiding her chin up.

And Hecate gasps into the sensation of Pippa’s mouth against hers.

Sparks shiver through the whole of her body and she flashes cold then wildly hot, whimpering at the feeling of Pippa - after so long the feeling of Pippa - until she breaks away with a gasp, trembling hand coming to cover her mouth.

“I - I’ve never been kissed before.”

She’s sure she must look a sight. Hair loose from sleeping, cheeks blotting with color, wide eyes that ridiculously fill with tears at her own nativity. She drops her gaze, confused and ashamed, and startles when Pippa takes her hand.

“Is this alright?” She whispers, and Hecate looks up, expecting scorn, but only sees warmth and love in her eyes.

“You expect me to be a woman and in so many ways I’m still hardly more than a child.”

Pippa shakes her head, tucking a lock of unruly hair gently behind Hecate’s ear. “I don’t expect anything,” and her eyes shine in the light of the fire. “Nothing that wouldn’t make you happy.” She tilts her head. “I want to be close to you, if you want that, but in whatever way that means to you, that’s more than enough. Having you in my life -“ she breaks off and Hecate watches her the way her chest trembles as she struggles for breath “-it’s more than enough.”

But Hecate shakes her head, bitterness rising within her like a mishap of a brew. “But it’s not enough.” She finds she’s squeezing Pippa’s hand tightly. “I want - I want -“

Pippa waits, lets her work through it.

“More,” she finishes finally, and blushes.

Pippa collected her other hand, leading her to the settee where she settles her then sits herself until they’re knee to knee. “Darling -“

Hecate flushes.

“I like when you call me, darling.”

The interruption is worth it to watch the way Pippa’s face lights up. “Then, _my darling,_ ” she grins, and Hecate thrums with pleasure. It must show because Pippa laughs, delighted. “Perhaps we should talk about what ‘more’ looks like.”

Hecate grips her hands. Tries not to think of lonely, dark-strewn night alone in her room. Of discovering what her hands could do. Of imagining they were Pippa’s. Of crying out in sick shame after. Of trying not to think of Indigo.

“More - is - it’s -“ she falters but Pippa merely watches her, thumb brushing against the back of Hecate’s hand. “It’s _everything_ ,” she finalizes.

Pippa studies her. “Holding hands?” She gives Hecate’s a squeeze and Hecate feels her mouth tug up at the simplicity of holding hands with Pippa.

“More.”

Pippa releases her and suddenly her arms are around Hecate’s neck. “Is holding you?”

She rocks Hecate to shoulder her and Hecate sighs, feels she could almost fall back asleep like this, nestled into Pippa as though she were always made to fit there. But Pippa’s breath is tickling just below her ear and it makes her gasp as her stomach dips a little.

“More,” she whispers.

“Me, kissing you?”

Pippa’s mouth is close again, and Hecate tremulously lifts her chin, letting Pippa’s mouth find her own. Pippa is exceedingly gentle. She brushes a series of warm kisses against Hecate’s lips, each one lingering longer than the last. Guiding Hecate back against the couch she shifts, moving with her so that they’re both more comfortable. Slowly she deepens the kiss, lips parting, and slowly, tentatively Hecate responds.

It’s like nothing she’s ever felt. Impossible to imagine. Her lips are tingling and her body is glowing, and Pippa waits for her to adjust to each new sensation before driving her higher to realms of delight that Hecate did not think such an act could produce. She gasps, hand suddenly clutching at Pippa’s shoulder as a warm, sharp ache begins to build low in her stomach.

“Pippa -“

Pippa’s looking at her all too knowingly. She takes Hecate’s hand and kisses her fingertips causing Hecate to gasp again. Everything seems over sensitized yet far from the usual tension she carries in every muscle of her body. It’s languid, yet sharp, heady, yet urgent, and she finds herself shifting, trying to get more comfortable, though she can’t seem to find a position that dulls the ache that’s rising within her.

“Pippa - “ she gasps again, feeling tiny sinapses of fire flicker through her. “Did you cast a spell on me?”

Pippa bites down on grin, pink cheeks growing pinker, and kisses the inside of Hecate’s wrist. “Not with magic, darling.”

“Darling.” Hecate all but moans and Pippa’s suddenly very close.

“I want to take you to bed, but not if it’s too much, too soon.” She looks awfully serious and Hecate’s mind struggles through the flash of - _something_ \- that races through her at the thought of being in bed with Pippa.

She grasps Pippa’s wrist from where she’s tenderly stroking Hecate’s cheek.

“I ought not be jealous that you’ve probably been with many witches.”

Pippa tilts her head. “A few.”

“Abigail?”

“ _Not_ Abigail _.”_

Hecate lets out a breath of relief.

“You know,” Pippa whispers, and her fingers are busy again with smoothing back Hecate’s hair, “my first time, it wasn’t very good. It wasn’t with someone I loved, or who loved me. My partner wasn’t very patient.” She tilts Hecate’s chin towards her. “It got better for me, once I learned what I liked. Once I didn’t just settle if I realized my partner wasn’t listening to me in bed.”

She holds Hecate’s gaze and then kisses her very gently. Hecate longs to fall into the kiss, but Pippa pulls back and looks at her again with the same serious expression. “If we go further than this - tonight - another night - any night - but if we do, then I want you to know that I want to make it as lovely an experience as possible. Yes, I’ve had other partners. But none of them have been you. And being with you - I want to know everything. I want to learn it with you, if that sounds alright.”

Hecate feels her eyes drift shut with relief, can’t hold back the way her mouth curls up to a smile or her body warms in the light of Pippa’s love. She shakes her head in wonder. “I don’t deserve -“

Pippa lets out a noise and Hecate’s eyes fly open. “You do. You do deserve.” She takes Hecate’s hands again and looks at her earnestly. “Don’t you see - when you put yourself down, you’re not just hurting yourself. It _hurts me_ to see you think you don't deserve love. My love, or anyone else’s. I’m not faulting you, I know now what you’ve been taught. But you are _worthy_ , Hecate Hardbroom. And I just wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Blushing, Hecate looks at Pippa shyly.

“I love you,” Pippa whispers, and Hecate’s eyes fill with tears.

“I love you, too.” She touches Pippa’s cheek, guiding her face close. Takes a breath. “You’re so brave,” she sighs against Pippa’s lips. “And lovely. And smart.” Their lips are nearly touching. “And I know I like to pretend to have all the answers, but you’re really the sensible one between us.”

Pippa laughs against her mouth, and Hecate closes the distance, thrilling as she sets the pace of the kiss, shocking herself as she eases Pippa back instead and dares to part her lips with her tongue.

“Hecate,” Pippa whimpers.

“Pipsqueak.”

The nickname comes out fondly as her nose brushes against Pippa’s tenderly, and Pippa smiles, eyes a little wet.

“Hiccup.”

They kiss again, the sweet turning more urgent, and Hecate finds she doesn’t know of anything else she wants more than to be closer to Pippa.

“Tonight,” she whispers, feeling terrified and brave all at once. “Tonight, I - I - _Pippa_ -“

Pippa’s looking up at her with swollen lips and mussed hair, and Hecate tightens her fingers in Pippa’s sweater.

“You can be sure now and decide to slow down later,” she promises softly, and Hecate nudges her nose against Pippa’s cheek, kissing down her jaw to just below. Pippa gasps, fingers tightening on Hecate’s shoulder, and Hecate feels determination settle in her chest, hot and full of promise, like a rising balloon.

 _“I want_ ,” she murmurs, and licks over the spot that has produced the reaction. Pippa jerks and gasps again, and she smiles against her neck, “more of that.”

She raises her eyes and Pippa’s staring at her in wonder.

“Everything you’ve said to me,” Hecate breathes. “I want that for you, too. I want us to learn together.”

Pippa stands and reaches down, smiling when Hecate takes her hand.

She pulls her up and flush against her, kissing her nose, then her cheek, then finally, a lingering, starburst of a kiss to Hecate’s mouth.

“We always did like to be top of our class.”

And Hecate, heart busting, lets herself laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pippa’s fingers, so gentle in her hair, still for a moment. “You haven’t slept outside of your bed at Cackle’s since you were thirteen, have you?”
> 
> Hecate tenses a little, but Pippa’s hand returns to its journey across her forehead, and she relaxes again.
> 
> “No.”
> 
> “Will you be alright here tonight?”
> 
> Hecate finds she’s pressing closer, clinging to Pippa in a way that she’d surely be ashamed of it she weren’t quite so emotionally wrung out and needy.
> 
> “You’re here,” she says simply, eyes growing heavier still. 
> 
> It’s as if not just the curse has been lifted, but a new spell, one that has turned Pippa into an amulet of protection, has been cast instead. Vaguely she thinks of their childhood and realizes that it’s not such a new spell. It’s just Pippa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm....pretty happy with how this chapter turned out :) 
> 
> i'm trying to brew a healing balm fic that i can rub on my very sad, Hecate-Hardbroom-protective heart. it's not gonna really heal things after S3, but i needed to write something.

Pippa leads her to her bedroom. And Hecate focuses on the way Pippa’s hand feels within her own, the smiles Pippa keeps throwing back at her over her shoulder, and not on the way her stomach dips at the thought of what will pass between them next. They enter the room and Pippa spells on a light, turning to tug Hecate closer to the bed. The sheets are still rumpled from earlier, and Pippa guides her down onto the duvet, lying alongside her and kissing her sweetly.

Hecate’s fingers come up to cup her cheek, and Pippa smiles, nose nudging Hecate’s own. “Is this alright?”

Hecate nods and shifts, moving her hands down to splay along Pippa’s back. They look at each other for a moment, and then Pippa leans in and kisses her again.

It turns her immediately to a needy mass of quivering nerves, and she deepens the kiss quite desperately, shifting her head so that Pippa’s mouth can connect with hers more fully, so their tongues can brush in a way that makes her body both tighten and relax all at once. Pippa urges her back and slows the kiss to an almost painful degree, and Hecate moans, gripping her hips.

“Pippa,” she whispers, dazed, and Pippa hums, fingertips brushing down Hecate’s neck, mouth following. Her body arches like a bow in response, and Pippa hums again, sounding pleased. Her lips are gentle on Hecate’s throat, traveling up to just behind her ear and then down lower, to where Hecate’s shoulder meets her body. And Hecate’s fists tighten in the sheets at the sensation.

Looking up, Pippa’s eyes are warm and bright, and she traces her finger along Hecate’s clavicle, followed by her tongue. “Alright?”

Hecate nods, unable to speak. And Pippa pulls back a little, hand finding its way to rest on Hecate’s ribs. Her muscles ripple at the touch and Pippa smiles. “Darling?”

“Hm?” Hecate can only gaze up at her, body limp and wanting, and Pippa looks so beautiful sitting astride her that she nearly closes her eyes. She doesn’t. She can’t. She cannot waste a second longer not seeing Pippa as much as she possibly can, not after so much time apart.

Pippa leans down and kisses her cheek. “I’d like to touch you, is that okay?” Nose close to Hecate’s, her hand shifts a little higher on Hecate’s ribs and Hecate can’t help the small noise of acquiescence that tumbles from her instinctively. Pippa laughs a little. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Hecate whispers, blushing, and Pippa kisses her cheek again.

“You’re in control, you know,” she murmurs as she straightens. Her fingers are trailing higher and higher, and Hecate gasps, dizzy. “Anything you need, you get to tell me. And I will listen.” Hecate can feel her hands, soft along the undersides of her breasts, and she finds she’s pressing her head back into the pillow, hand still clutching at the sheets.

She nods a little desperately, and then Pippa’s palms, warm - almost unbearably hot - are cupping her through her night dress. The exchange of body heat is nearly overwhelming. She shudders at the newness of the sensation, how her body responds by arching further into Pippa’s touch, and at the emotions that floods her - ones of tenderness and comfort, of being cared for in a way she’s hardly ever hoped to be.

Let alone believed she deserves.

Pippa doesn’t move at first, simply holder her in her palms, hands gentle, letting her adjust. Their eyes connect and Pippa smiles, cheeks rather pink. She leans in and kisses Hecate in a new way, teasingly, playfully, and when she pulls back Hecate can only look up at her in amazement.

Pippa hums, and her thumb finds one of Hecate’s nipples. She gasps, hips shifting, and Pippa tosses her hair out of her eyes, biting her lip. The sight of her makes Hecate whimper, doubly so when she begins to move her other thumb, mimicking the first. She moves in small, teasing circles and Hecate shudders, heat surging through her as the ache within her grows.

“Still alright?” Pippa whispers, and Hecate stares at her.

“I think you’re only asking me that in the hope that I’ll tell you that you’re driving me out of my mind, Pipsqueak.”

“And am I?” Pippa’s smile is mischievous.

Pushing herself up on one elbow, Hecate pulls her close enough for their mouths to meet, then sinks back down with her so that Pippa’s chest is pressed against her own. “I think you know you are.”

They kiss languidly, and then frantically, and Pippa’s fingers are working down the buttons at the top of the night dress, undoing enough so that her hand can slip inside. And suddenly they are skin to skin, and Hecate makes a sound - a sound that has her pulling back from Pippa in embarrassed surprise - and Pippa’s fingers still from where they’re tracing around her nipple.

Something wild is building within Hecate, and in the back of her mind it scares her - the desperation - the need - but she pushes the feeling down and instead tugs at Pippa’s sweater, eager to be closer than they ever have been before.

Pippa helps her pull the garment over her head and Hecate loses her breath when it comes away and she finds Pippa hasn’t bothered with a bra. All of a sudden Pippa’s laid out below her, smooth skin and freckles like constellations, and rosy nipples that match the pink of her cheeks. Hecate bites down hard on the sniffle that rises in her - her heart broken and mended all at once  as she gazes down at the sight of Pippa beneath her.

“Hiccup - ?”

“It’s just - it’s just -” tears are rolling down her cheeks and she doesn’t want Pippa to think that it’s because she’s any less than completely perfect. Struggling to explain, Hecate places her palm against Pippa’s ribs in an imitation of Pippa’s earlier actions. “You’re so precious to me -” she manages, voice made thick by tears. “You’re - you’re -” her hand slides upwards, Pippa’s fingers gentle against her wrist, giving her permission, and she cups Pippa in her hand, feeling her warmth, tears falling down onto Pippa’s skin and raising goosebumps in their wake. “You’re here.” She gasps. “And you’re w-wonderful.” Pippa pulls her in and holds her to her, Hecate’s hand still trapped between them and Hecate buries her face in Pippa’s naked shoulder and breathes her in.

“And I’m yours,” Pippa whispers, guiding her back enough so that they can look at each other. She lays back, arms above her head, smiling up at Hecate. “I’m completely yours.” Glancing down, she takes both Hecate’s hands and guides them so that they rest over her breasts. “Completely.”

Hecate’s head spins at the softness of Pippa’s skin, at the way she can feel her nipples against her palms, at the new sort of magic that is building in the air between them. It’s cast from vulnerability, and from trust, and she takes a shuddering breath before ducking in to kiss Pippa. It’s a little off center, a little sloppy, but Pippa’s eyes are warm and bright when she pulls away.

“I think,” Pippa whispers, and Hecate realizes that her hands have moved and are trailing down Hecate’s back, “I think, perhaps, this might come off?” She hooks her fingers down at the edge of Hecate's nightgown where it’s ridden up to just under her thighs, and Hecate looks at her, breathlessly, uncertainly.

But she still wants to feel Pippa’s skin against her now - almost more than anything else - and she shifts forward so that Pippa can pull the edge of the gown from where she sits on it. Her hair falls forward down around Pippa’s face and Pippa pulls up with one hand and guides her back with the other before shifting to work the dress higher, helping Hecate pull her arms through as her hair tangles in the fabric.

At last she’s free, naked and exposed, and she shivers, arms crossing as her shoulders hunch. Pippa pushes herself up on an elbow and touches her chin. “You are exquisite, Hecate.”

Hecate blinks at her, feeling overwhelmed and ashamed. She can only shake her head, hair shifting to cover her body a little more thoroughly and Pippa cups her cheek. “You’re gorgeous. You’re simply gorgeous.”

Again Hecate shakes her head but urges Pippa gently back, not quite ready to feel so exposed. Instead she seeks the comfort of Pippa’s own body, pressing her back to the mattress, sliding forward until their skin meets, flush, breast to breast and hip to hip. And Hecate cries out at the sensation. At the warm comfort of it, at the erotic implications, at the way Pippa’s hands secure themselves against her back, both grounding and arousing all at once.

“Oh, my darling,” Pippa whispers, and she sounds like she might cry. Hecate turns her head and blindly kisses up over Pippa’s jaw until she finds her mouth. The way it feels to kiss Pippa like this, nearly naked, terribly vulnerable, filled with love, is nearly more than she can take, and she cries out again.

The heat that’s been steadily building low in her body shifts into something a little more desperate, and she finds she’s pushing down against Pippa with her hips without realizing. The idea makes her cry out again - disconcerted and bewildered by her own body - and Pippa rolls them sideways, shifting so that her thigh falls between Hecate’s legs and Hecate bears down against it helplessly.

“Pippa -” she gasps. “Pippa.”

“It’s alright,” Pippa murmurs, and Hecate shakes her head, fire surging through her veins with each roll of her hips. “It’s very much alright.”

Hecate fears she’s pressing too firmly against Pippa’s back, fingertips trying to find an anchor in some way, but Pippa bites her lip on a smile, and starts to move her thigh slightly. She begins a gentle presses upwards until Hecate’s head is spinning.

She can feel something rising within herself, some aching need that consumes her whole psyche. It’s tangy and desperate, the complete antithesis of all control by which she governs her life.

Overwhelmed, she shifts so that Pippa’s beneath her again and the pressure dissipates. She kisses her way down Pippa’s sternum, mouth leaving hot tracks down warm skin until she can trace her tongue around Pippa’s nipple. The texture against her lips makes her eyes flutter shut and she takes Pippa in her mouth, both of them making a sound at the sensation. Hecate forces her eyes open, desperate to see Pippa, and Pippa gazes down at her with hooded eyes, one hand fisting in Hecate’s hair as Hecate regretfully releases her, parting from her with a swirl of her tongue, and moves to the other side, heart squeezing with affection as Pippa’s eyes fall shut and her head tilts back.

Pippa’s still in her leggings, and Hecate can feel dampness against her stomach as she slides back up to kiss Pippa. She moves her mouth against Pippa’s, slowly, lazily, and Pippa opens her eyes to gaze at her glassily. “Merlin, Hiccup.”

Biting her lip, Hecate blushes. “Is this alright?”

Pippa beams, freckles dancing across her nose as she laughs a little. “More than.” She pauses. “Are you alright?” She touches Hecate’s cheek, and suddenly, despite herself, Hecate finds she’s crying.

“Sweetheart.” Pippa gathers her close, shifting them so Hecate’s laying down alongside her, fighting the desperate, bitter tears that flood down her face and fall onto Pippa’s skin.

“I - I’m sorry - “ she gasps, and realizes that her whole body is suddenly trembling. “I’m so very sorry -”

“Whatever for?” Pippa whispers. “Darling. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Hecate shakes her head. Desperate to explain, hopeless to understand herself. “I don’t know why - I don’t know why I’m like this.”

Pippa’s quiet for a moment, hand soothing down through Hecate’s hair. “When you woke up this morning, did you ever consider that this would be the day you had?”

Hecate gulps in air and shakes her head.

“How long ago,” Pippa whispers, “did you give up on wishing for this? How many years did you live with guilt and heartache?”

Hecate can only cry, and Pippa tilts her chin up, kissing her forehead. “Darling, I think I’d be more worried if you _weren’t_ like this.”

Startled, Hecate chokes on an inhale. “Would you?”

Pippa brushes damp hair from her eyes and her finger resume stroking through Hecate’s hair. “Yes? Yes. You’ve been through so much. And it’s all changed so quickly. The whole of your life taken away, and then in a day, the whole of it rearranged.” She conjures a handkerchief and Hecate takes it gratefully. “Just because things are better now than they were,” Pippa says slowly, a small frown between her eyebrows, “doesn’t mean how they were just goes away.” She tilts her head. “I can imagine there will be many moments, as you come to adjust to your freedom that will feel overwhelming. Even things that feel good - when you’ve been denied them so long - can feel like a loss.”

Hecate blinks at her, surprised that Pippa’s been able to summarize so succinctly emotions that she finds she can only nebulously grapple with. “How do you know - “

Pippa shakes her head. “Another time.” She kisses her forehead and Hecate finishes with the hankie, weakly spelling it to vanishment.

She settles against Pippa’s shoulder, hand restless along Pippa’s ribs. “I - I - “ she gazes up at Pippa helplessly, unsure why her body is still trembling without her ability to calm it. Her teeth are chattering again and tears of utter frustration and embarrassment return to her eyes. “I’ve quite ruined the mood.”

Pippa takes her hand, threading their fingers together. “No, darling.”

“But I have,” Hecate grits out and tries to kiss Pippa’s shoulder. She reclaims her hand from Pippa and pushes her back to the sheets, mouth desperate as she drags it down Pippa’s sternum. Her body is still shaking too much for her to move easily, and she has to rest her forehead between Pippa’s breasts, back arching as she tries to breath through pain and dizziness. “I want to - “ she grits out “I want -”

Pippa’s hands are firm against her shoulder blades and Hecate doesn’t have the strength to fight as she’s guided back to Pippa’s arms and tucked securely once again against her shoulder. “Hecate.” Pippa’s nose is against her cheek and Hecate tries to breath, tries to stop her teeth from clacking together as she shudders. The more she tries, the worse it becomes, and Pippa places a hand over her diaphragm, eyes concerned. “Breath, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere, but you need to breath.”

Tremulously, Hecate does.

“I just want to - after all this time -”

Pippa soothes her. “I know. I know.” She pauses and adjusts Hecate so that she’s tucked even more securely against her. “But we have time now. And things will be so much better when you’re relaxed and can enjoy it. I fear you’re awfully exhausted, darling.”

Ashamed, Hecate closes her eyes. “I just want to be with you.”

“You are with me,” Pippa murmurs. And Hecate cracks an eye open.

“You know what I mean,” she mutters and Pippa laughs.

“I do.”

Hecate breathes through another spike in trembling and Pippa takes her hand.

“It’s just that, that - “ blushingly she looks at Pippa a little sidelong. “I _liked_ what we were - “ she can’t go on and feels her cheeks flame more thoroughly. She buries her face in Pippa’s shoulder and realizes that she can feel Pippa breathing beside her. It’s a regulated, calming tempo, and Hecate tries to match her own breath to it.

It helps, and she feels her seizing muscles relaxed a bit more. She plants a small kiss to Pippa’s shoulder, then another to her clavicle. Shifting for better access, she lets her lips part so that her kisses become more deliberate, mouth soft against Pippa’s skin until Pippa’s gasping and restless beneath her touch.

Gentle fingers find her chin and guide her upwards.

Pippa’s looks at her, eyes dark and affectionate, and Hecate blushes.

“How about this,” Pippa says as she tucks her back to her shoulder. “how about we stay like this for ten minutes.” Her arm wraps around Hecate, holding her close. “After thirty years, ten minutes is nothing.” She kisses Hecate’s forehead. “If you want to - _resume_ \- things after ten minutes, and you feel up to it,” she peers down at Hecate,  “then alright. But if, after ten minutes, you’d rather we wait until it’s not quite so late, and we’re not quite so exhausted, then that’s just as alright.”

Hecate tilts her chin up so that their lips nearly touch. “I’ll be just fine after ten minutes.”

“Uh huh,” Pippa gives her a gentle kiss and then pulls her down so that Hecate can listen to her heartbeat. It is rather soothing, and she frowns at how quickly her body becomes heavy, how her brain starts to fight against the black edges that threaten to tug her into sleep.

“Pippa,” she whispers, and beneath her, she hears Pippa’s chest vibrate as she hums in response. The bed beneath her is very soft. Pippa is very soft. “Everything’s going to be so different now.”

Pippa’s fingers, so gentle in her hair, still for a moment. “You haven’t slept outside of your bed at Cackle’s since you were thirteen, have you?”

Hecate tenses a little, but Pippa’s hand returns to its journey across her forehead, and she relaxes again.

“No.”

“Will you be alright here tonight?”

Hecate finds she’s pressing closer, clinging to Pippa in a way that she’d surely be ashamed of it she weren’t quite so emotionally wrung out and needy.

“You’re here,” she says simply, eyes growing heavier still. It’s as if not just the curse has been lifted, but a new spell, one that has turned Pippa into an amulet of protection, has been cast instead. Vaguely she thinks of their childhood and realizes that it’s not such a new spell. It’s just Pippa.

“I love you,” she murmurs, sleepily. The words come naturally. But she can’t be surprised at it. Not when all tension is draining from her, not when Pippa’s hand is in her hair, and she’s in Pippa’s bed, and Cackle’s is a lifetime away. She can’t be surprised at it because suddenly she feels safe.

Pippa is quiet for a long time, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and filled with tears and emotion. “I love you, too.”

And just as she falls asleep Hecate realizes Pippa’s love is not a spell at all.

It’s a magic all its own.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Pippa must realize what a mistake this is,_ she thinks haltingly.
> 
> Suddenly she feels desperately foolish in her self-claimed robe and her unbound hair. She can’t move, can hardly breathe, and stands utterly still, horror mounting.
> 
> She thinks of transferring, but realizes that she has nowhere else to go.
> 
> Still, she lifts her hand all the same - instinctively and without a plan - and Pippa’s beside her in a flash, hand wrapping around Hecate’s to still her from leaving. Pippa’s hand is damp, wet from her tears, and she moves quickly, wrapping an arm around Hecate and pulling her against her instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments would make this bday girl v happy :) 
> 
> tw: discussions of past ed and abuse

Hecate blinks awake, the morning sun in her eyes unfamiliar in its angle and its brightness. It takes her a moment to come to terms that she’s not at Cackle’s, that she’s not in her bed.

That she’s at Pentangle’s.

That she’s in Pippa’s bed.

Slowly, she turns her head and her heart constricts with utter amazement and tenderness at the sight of Pippa lying beside her. Somehow in the night Pippa has turned to her stomach, one arm trapped at an angle beneath her, the other thrown haplessly above her head. She’s facing away from Hecate, hair mussed and spilling across the pillows, and Hecate’s eyes follow the lines of her still naked back down to where her narrow waist disappears into her black leggings.

For a spell she lays still, half wondering if she’s dreaming. Pippa’s back rises and falls, and Hecate studies the freckles that fleck across it. The sharpness of Pippa’s shoulder blades. How in sleep Pippa is somehow even dearer to Hecate than ever before. Lulled by Pippa’s steady breathing, she slips back into a half-sleep with the calming reassurance that Pippa is still by her side.

When she wakes again, Pippa has turned and her fingers are stretching out for Hecate, spayed across the mattress between them as her eyes blink sleepily open.

“Hi,” she whispers, and Hecate wonders what it would be like to wake up next to Pippa every morning.

“Hello.” Her voice sounds hoarse and Pippa bites her lip, shuffling closer until they’re nose to nose.

“Hi,” she says again, and Hecate realizes she must want to kiss her. The thought makes her nearly smile, but her stomach flips a little as memories from the night before flood back to her.

“I fear I made a fool of myself last night,” she frowns, exhausted by the way her body clenches as if ready to run. She doesn’t want to run from Pippa, she realizes. But the muscle memory, long engrained, still remains.

Pippa gazes at her. “You did no such thing.” She tilts her chin up so that their lips are almost touching. “I think,” she whispers, eyes sparkling, “having you wake up in my bed is definitely the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” She frowns. “Though I am sorry for the circumstances and the pain you’ve gone through.”

“Last night we didn’t - we didn’t get to -”

Pippa smiles. “No, and that’s alright. And when we do, _then_ , surely that will be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But there’s time for that. And I don’t mind waiting. Besides, I haven’t slept so well in ages.” She blinks, concerned. “Did you sleep alright?”

Slowly, Hecate nods, surprised to realize that it’s true. She hadn’t awakened during the night and does feel better than she had the night before. The motion of her head causes their lips just to brush, and she can feel Pippa smiling a little more. Instinctively, they both press closer, and Hecate sighs into the feel of Pippa’s mouth, warm and soft against her own.

It’s slow, gentle, as if Pippa’s focused on reassuring rather than arousing. She pulls back and grins down at Hecate, hand splaying on her sheet-covered abdomen as she pushes herself up to rest on her elbow. “How about some breakfast, hmm? Your stomach just growled.”

“Funny, I thought it was yours.”

Pippa laughs. “Fine. It was.” She kisses Hecate again and kicks off the covers, reaching for a cream kimono which she wraps around herself but leaves open. Hecate stares at where she’s still exposed, unable to look away.

“You stay there,” Pippa grins, and Hecate blushes as Pippa follows where her line of vision is fixed. “I’ll go arrange it with the kitchens.”

She presses back down on the bed so that she can kiss Hecate swiftly, and then swirls from the room, cream robe billowing behind her. The smile she tosses back over her shoulder is dazzling, and Hecate’s breath catches on a surge of strong emotion.

She shifts on the bed, gazing around the room and then out the sunlit windows. Everything is quiet, unfamiliar, soft.  She sighs and touches her stomach through the sheet where Pippa’s hand still leaves a lingering warmth and a shiver rises through her at her own touch and at the memory of Pippa’s.

She can hear Pippa moving quietly in the next room. There’s wind in the trees below, the faint chirping of birds. Every now and again she thinks she hears what might be the sound of a very distant wind chime. Her head feels heavy, as if she ought to be thinking about Cackle’s, as if she ought to be thinking about her life. But all she can do is lie quietly in the sun, thoughts scattered and too slow to marshal. The bed smells of Pippa and she rolls to her side, hand sliding across the sheets to touch the still warm area in which she lay. The sheet across her falls lower and she shivers, tugging it demurely higher up her chest. It’s cream, and soft, the duvet a gentle cream as well, edged in a pale pink. It’s all so very Pippa. All around her: sights, smells, feelings of Pippa.

She breathes in slowly, trying to ease the tension that has constricted the muscles of her shoulders for so many years, and closes her eyes. She won’t think of Cackle’s. She can’t just yet. Taking another breath, she focuses on Pippa’s smell instead. On the distant windchimes. On the warm, soft bed around her.

She thinks she might doze off again then and jolts a little, suddenly realizing how quiet everything become. Frowning, she tries to gauge how long Pippa’s been gone, her frown deepening when it seems unreasonably long.

Slowly, she sits, head heavy and fuzzy, and rises, bypassing her nightgown for a thicker robe that she finds hanging by the bathroom door. Unlike Pippa, she ties it tightly about her waist, and then makes her way across the room on quiet feet, pulling open the door to the sitting room and coming up short.

Pippa’s pacing before the large windows, one hand to her mouth as if to keep herself quiet as she tries to stifle the tears that wash in rivulets down her cheeks. She startles when Hecate enters, stepping back from her in surprise and turning away to dash at her tears, shoulders hunching as she curls around herself.

Heart in her throat, Hecate stands frozen.

 _Pippa must realize what a mistake this is_ , she thinks haltingly.

Suddenly she feels desperately foolish in her self-claimed robe and her unbound hair. She can’t move, can hardly breathe, and stands utterly still, horror mounting.

She thinks of transferring, but realizes that she has nowhere else to go.

Still, she lifts her hand all the same - instinctively and without a plan - and Pippa’s beside her in a flash, hand wrapping around Hecate’s to still her from leaving. Pippa’s hand is damp, wet from her tears, and she moves quickly, wrapping an arm around Hecate and pulling her against her instead.

“I’m sorry,” Pippa sniffles into her neck. “I’m so sorry.”

Still reeling, Hecate tentatively places her hands against Pippa’s shaking back.

 _For what_? she longs to ask, but fears the answer.

Pippa pulls back and wipes at her eyes. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I just - I’m just - _so worried about you_ \- “

Startled, Hecate stares at her.

“- and then breakfast came, and I didn’t know what was your favorite - so I had the kitchen send up _a ridiculous amount of food_ \- and then I realized that you’ve been eating Cackle’s food for thirty years - and it appears that it’s just as terrible as I remember it given what they fed us at the Spelling Bee - and then I realized that it might be overwhelming to have so many food options all at once - and me expecting you to be excited and happy about it when it’s probably all too new and too much - and food can be really overwhelming sometimes - and I didn’t know what to _do_ so I sent down for some oatmeal - something simple - in case you’d prefer that - but I just want to make things nice for you and - and - I’m just - I’m just - “ Pippa speaks rapidly, hardly pausing for breath, and she sucks in air suddenly, swaying slightly. Hecate’s hands come out automatically and catch her arms, steadying her.

“Pipsqueak.” She’s caught sight of the coffee table, laden with sweets, and eggs cooked every way, and muffins, and pancakes. Tarts. And fruits. And cereals. Raising an eyebrow at Pippa she strokes her thumb against the fabric of her robe. “All of this for me?”

Pippa tries to shake her head and nod at the same time. “I’m sorry. I -”

Hecate studies her. “Are you alright?”

Pippa laughs a little, but she sounds uncertain and Hecate slides her fingers down so she can take her hands. “Pippa?”

“I - I -” Pippa shifts uncomfortably, and Hecate’s not used to seeing her this uncertain. “I just remember - after leaving Cackle’s - after how awful the food was there. And that I - I -” she inhales, her eyes sliding away from Hecate’s. “I couldn’t get enough of food after that. But that also meant I - well - I wasn’t very happy with myself - how I looked, I mean. So I thought that if I only ate magically conjured food, then I could eat whatever I wanted.” She glances at Hecate and Hecate squeezes her hands, willing her to go on. “And then people started complimenting me. Because there’s nothing _in_ magically conjured food. And I told myself I was eating fine. That everything was okay.”

“But it wasn’t okay.” Hecate watches as Pippa’s eyes still refuse to meet her own.

“No. It wasn’t okay.”

Gently, Hecate touches her cheek. “Are you okay now?”

Pippa finally looks at her, eyes rather wet. “Mostly. I - “ she scrubs at her face. “It’s important for me to eat on a regular intervals. I get - well - can get - “ she gestures around at the room and blushes. “I forget sometimes and then I think I can keep going with it. Or I get overwhelmed.” She looks embarrassed and Hecate steps closer, concerned.

“You didn’t have dinner last night, did you? And it is awfully late in the day now.”

Pippa brushes at the tears on her cheeks. “I just realized - I thought that - that if I had problems after only a few years at Cackles -”

“That you’re worried about me after thirty years?”

“You had no other access - no other _options_ \- “ she turns and looks at the food in dismay. “I don’t want to make you sick. No doubt you’re hardly use to food like this.”

Hecate takes her hand. “Pippa.” Pippa looks over at her and Hecate loves her so much that she think she might stop breathing. “I love you, too.”

Pippa looks confused. “I - “

Hecate hovers next to her, willing her to understand. “You asked me if I awoke yesterday and expected to have the day I had. But you hardly woke up yesterday thinking that the day would end the way it did for you either. I’ve sprung rather a lot on you. And you’ve held up - you’ve taken it better that I - _you’ve been here for me_ -” she shakes her head, the words not summarizing the way that she feels. “Thank you. Thank you for thinking of me, considering what might be challenging for me. It’s - it’s -”

She can’t go on, but Pippa’s looking at her, warmth written across her face.

“Well, I love you, too,” she whispers, and tugs Hecate into her arms. They stand for a few minutes entwined, and Pippa’s stomach rumbles again.

Hecate can feel her blushing. “Why don’t,” she whispers, lips ghosting across Pippa’s cheek, “you let me try some of your favorites.” Pippa smiles, rather shyly, and nods. She takes Hecate’s hand and leads her back other to the poufs. They settle side by side - Pippa settling down more on top of her than in the pouf - more intimate than Hecate could ever dream they’d be - as she reaches for yogurts, and berries, and granolas, dishing them into small bowls that sit before them.

“And tea,” she murmurs, the pot disappearing and reappearing in her hand. “And here, maybe these scones.” She passes one to Hecate and Hecate catches her hand and and kisses the back of it.

And Hecate picks up her spoon, savoring the way that Pippa’s half in her lap, arm pressing against hers as she reaches for the jam.

“I do like donuts,” Pippa sighs, grabbing one and biting into it. “It’s the one magically conjured food I allow myself now.”

She brandishes one at Hecate, who lifts an eyebrow, taking it between the tips of her fingers and examining the lurid, pink icing skeptically. She pulls off a tiny portion and raises it to her lips, prepared to be as dismayed by the taste as she is the visual.

Sweet, tangy brilliance melts in her mouth and she stares at Pippa.

“Good?” Pippa looks mischievous, and Hecate takes the remainder of the donut from her with nimble fingers.

“Now I know what Julie Hubble was on about,” she huffs in defeat, and Pippa laughs.

They eat in companionable silence for a moment and Hecate turns to Pippa and sets down her teacup.

“You know that I’m very good at rules, Pippa. And Routine. Most of all, routine.”

Pippa cocks her head. “Yes?”

“I - I don’t want to presume, but I was thinking - I - well, there’s not much I can do for you - I have so much in this world that I need to learn that I should already know. I have rather a large amount of catching up to do and it will make me far more dependent than I would like. And I fear that you’re determined to support me, but that there will be very little ways in which can give back.”

Pippa frowns. “It’s really not necessary - “

But Hecate shakes her head. “I want to be able to.” She hesitates and takes Pippa’s hand. “If you’re not very good at mealtimes - if you often forget - or can’t bring yourself to get around to it - if it’s important that you eat regularly,” she hesitates and then says gently, hopefully, “then maybe I can help with that.” She looks at Pippa beseechingly. “It’s a small act, but - “

Pippa’s arms are around her neck, nearly strangling her, and Hecate finds herself tipping back onto the pouf as Pippa kisses her cheeks, her chin, her forehead, her eyelids. Their lips meet and Hecate can feel emotion wavering in Pippa’s breath as they part.

She reaches up and smooths Pippa’s hair from her face. “D-darling?” She says tentatively, for Pippa looks near tears again.

“It’s just - just -” Pippa’s voice quivers and she runs a hand up and down Hecate’s arm, as though making sure of her. “I’d rather given up thinking that there’d ever be someone in my life to do such a thing for me.To help me when I stumble or feel a bit off balance. I manage just fine for the most part. I do well. But sometimes - sometimes there are little gaps in my life - things where if I only didn’t _have_ to be quite so independent, if I didn’t have to - “

“Do it all alone?” Hecate guesses. And Pippa tearfully nods.

“I’ve resigned myself to it but -”

“Now you don’t have to.” Hecate touches her cheek, adjusting her head to rest more comfortably on the pillow behind her. It feels so new - to have Pippa in her arms like this - to get to say these words to her - and Hecate realizes that she’s no longer so alone either. “Has there never been anyone - ?” She can hardly imagine that Pippa - gorgeous, whip smart, attractive Pippa Pentangle - has been alone all these years.

Pippa sits up, and wipes at her eyes, biting at her lower lip. “When I was young, right out of school, there was someone. For a long time. But it was nothing like that.” She shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t like that at all.”

Hecate pushes herself up and considers Pippa. “The person who wasn’t very patient with you? Your first time?” She touched Pippa’s knee. “Tell me?” The years span out between them and she finds she’s desperate to know all she can about their time apart.

Pippa plays absently with the handle of her teacup and glances as Hecate. “It’s not a very happy story.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be one to judge, now would I?”

Giving a half-smile, Pippa turns to her, resting her elbow on the table so that they’re face to face. “After I left Cackle’s I met someone soon after.”

Hecate swallows, trying to push away the jealousy that flairs sickly within her.

“I wasn’t - I wasn’t well _looking_.” She hesitates and glances up. “I was still quite hung up on you, if you must know.”

They share a look, filled with regret and understanding, and Hecate takes Pippa’s hand. It amazes her that she can do so, that at long last, she mustn’t hold herself back.

Pippa clears her throat a little and looks up at the ceiling, forehead scrunching. “He was nice enough. At first. And I didn’t feel for him like I felt for you - or other witches - but he was - “ she pauses, “ - less complicated. Safer? I thought it was how I was _supposed_ to feel, at least I did at the time. But looking back, I know being with him only felt safe because my heart could never feel for him what it could for a witch. And I felt so awfully much for witches.” She squeezes Hecate’s hand. “Especially a particular witch.”

“How long - ?“ Hecate breathes, unable to tear herself away from staring at Pippa’s face. She feels horrified and fascinated all at once, sick about Pippa’s obvious unhappiness, yet desperate to know everything about her.

“Seven years, about.” Pippa looks troubled.

“That’s - that’s a -”

“Long time? I know.” Pippa curls her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them, still holding Hecate’s hand. It’s a posture to hide vulnerability Hecate realizes, and she brushes her thumb along Pippa’s.

“Last night,” she says slowly. “You said something about learning to adjust to freedom. About how after denial, good things can sometimes tend to remind you of what you’ve lost.”

Pippa gazes at her, lost in thought for a moment, and then seems to make a decision. She takes an inhale and then sighs, knees falling open so she’s crosslegged facing Hecate. “I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve gone through,” she murmurs, and tugs Hecate’s hand so that she cradles it between her own. She places their palms together, eyes on how they fit. Hecate’s is slightly longer and Pippa twines their fingers together again, squeezing. “You were so young, a child really.”

“But you understood what I was trying to say - “ Hecate frowns at her. “Pippa - what -” she shakes her head. “What happened?” It’s almost a whisper. She’s not entirely sure she wants to know, for the pain of thinking Pippa hurting in anyway brings her heart crashing through her stomach. But Pippa’s been so brave for her, and she holds her gaze now, trying to communicate the growing, burning need she has inside to support her through whatever story she has to tell.

“At first it was -” Pippa laughs a little and shrugs. “Well. My mother was _so_ happy. And we had lots of friends - other couples - they’d ask us to go on weekend trips, and events, and dinners. It was easy to distract myself - to tell myself that it felt right - it was easy when we were always so busy.” She glances at Hecate. “It took me a long time to realize that all of our friends were his friends. That I was seeing my family less and less. And then I was going out less as well, and only when he said I could.” She drops Hecate’s hand and crosses her arms across her chest. And something - a look, fleeting and familiar to Hecate - flickers across her face. “By the time I realized that things between us were - were - well, not good - I realized I didn’t have anyone I could reach out to anymore. We were ‘the glamour couple,’” Pippa quips, but her eyes are still dark. “No one wanted to see what was in front of them.” She sighs. “And he was never happy with how I looked - and the food issues became more pronounced by then - and the isolation - the isolation was overwhelming. And if I did go out it was always _‘where have you been,’_ or _‘who were you with.’_ ”

Pippa bites her lip. “He didn’t want me working. Any job I took he’d get - well - jealous, I suppose. I was home for long periods of time, waiting for him to come back and tell me what I was allowed to eat. Who I was allowed to see. What I was supposed to wear.” She laughs and hunches a little. “I - I thought it was normal? To some degree. It took me a long time to realize -”

She breaks off and her eyes jump to Hecate's and she shakes her head.

“Realize?” Hecate prompts, though her chest is tight and her spine aches as though it might crack from tension.

“That it was abuse.” Pippa holds her gaze and together they both draw in a shaky breath.

“Pippa.” Hecate can feel tears on her cheeks. Hot and acidic and Pippa leans forward, catching them on her fingers.

“No, my love -” she looks desperately sad and Hecate takes another shuddering breath. “I didn’t tell you to add to the weight you must be feeling. It’s just - it’s just to a small - very small extent -”

“You understand,” Hecate breathes, heartbreak and relief rushing through her in equal measure.

Slowly, Pippa nods. “In a different way, but yes.”

“Pippa,” Hecate gasps and her hand reaches for Pippa’s, touching her cheek. “Did he - did he hurt you?”

Pippa stills and looks at her, eyes wide. “I - “ She looks away, tears sparkling in her eyes and Hecate bites down on a cry, heart wrenching at how lost Pippa suddenly looks.

“I got out,” Pippa says instead. She straightens, wipes at her eyes, looks at Hecate and there’s a flame behind her eyes. It’s one of fire and determination, and Hecate wants to memorize it, to feel that same resolution within herself one day. “I eventually got out. I left. I was - well - I was quite lost for a while. But I went back to school. Suddenly I knew what I wanted. I made new friends - that took a long while too. And I was very careful. I made some bad romantic choices at first and then some good ones. I let myself eat donuts - real donuts. I started Pentangle’s. I went to therapy.”

“Therapy,” Hecate echoes. “You talked to a _stranger_?”

Pippa nods and her hands are suddenly stroking down Hecate’s elbows to claim her hands. “It’s helped me a great deal. I - I think it’s too soon to discuss - and I know it’s not your style. But perhaps - Hiccup - you’ve been through so much. Maybe it’s something to think about. But you don’t have to say anything about it now.”

Hecate gazes at her, feeling overwhelmed, but also warmed by Pippa’s consideration. “Perhaps we discuss it later. When I’m - I’m -”

“Yes.” Pippa squeezes her fingers. “Later.”

They look at each other and Hecate’s mind trips over itself, following the movements of her heart. “I wish I could have been there for you.”

“I wish I could have been there for _you_.”

They are both are red around the eyes, and Hecate presses Pippa’s hand to just above her heart. “Thank you for telling me.”

Pippa shifts, moving forward so that she’s in Hecate’s space, and Hecate moves so that she can guide Pippa down until she’s more or less in her lap.

“It’s time to begin healing,” Pippa whispers, forehead pressing to her own. “I want to walk beside you, share the load when it gets too hard, when the world seems too strange and overwhelming. When you need to be reminded that you’re loved. That you’re enough.” She kisses Hecate’s forehead and gazes down at her. She smiles suddenly. “When you need to fly to the sea at three in the morning just because you want to and you can.”

“I’ve never been to the sea.”

Pippa looks surprised but quickly schools her features. “I have a cottage. It’s in a small community. Perhaps - perhaps with term ended?” She traces a finger along Hecate’s cheek and Hecate feels her eyes flutter shut at the sensation. Pippa stills and she blinks her eyes back open. “Would you like to come with me? For the holiday? It would be quiet. And restful. A place to acclimate.”

Hecate shakes her head, trying to imagine. Fear cramps her stomach and she closes her eyes again. “Tell me about the cottage.”

She can hear Pippa smile. “It has lovely gardens. Lots of flowers. Trees. And of course the sea, and the sounds of the sea, day and night. Roses. A little gate and a stone walkway. It’s painted green. Inside it’s bright, airy. I always feel like I can breathe there more easily there. There’s a big kitchen - I could teach you to cook, it’s just like potions after all, really. I taught myself after everything and it’s helped me in many ways. And there’s a large table that I like to sit at in the morning when the sun is coming through. There are three bedrooms upstairs, a lovely bath with a copper tub.” She kisses Hecate’s cheek. “My room has a giant bed, with soft, white sheets and a rosy duvet.” She kisses the corner of Hecate’s mouth. “It looks out over the garden, out to the sea. It’s very private. Very quiet.”

Hecate opens her eyes, mouth dry, heart racing. “Pippa -”

“I’d like to take you there.”

Their lips touch, and Hecate can see the cottage in her mind, so clearly, as if Pippa’s words have painted it there by magic. It scares her, but with Pippa by her side she thinks she might feel safe. Warm. And certainly wanted, if the by the way Pippa’s kissing her now is anything to go by.

“You want to take me there?”

Hecate’s lips quirk up, and Pippa laughs.

“Is that what you would want?

Hecate imagines them together in the kitchen. Fussing over the stove, shoulder to shoulder over a pot. Imagines them over breakfast. Sleepy and serene, Pippa sipping tea from a china cup. In Pippa’s bed, the sea crashing against the shore beyond, the sun across the covers. Pippa’s skin against her own, Pippa’s smile bright, her body arching.

She breaks the kiss, breathing hard.

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes. That is what I want.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pippa’s sweater smells like tea roses, smells like Pippa. She ducks her nose a bit so she can more fully capture the scent. It calms her, grounds her, and she keeps her line of vision fixed on Pippa’s busy form, blushing when their eyes meet, heart fluttering at the way Pippa’s expression goes soft and tender at the sight of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a lot that needs to get discussed between them, i've realized. so this will be longer and much more complicated than i originally thought. i hope it's....okay??

She sits in the windowsill, watching as Pippa flits around the room, sending messages on the magnet that floats beside her and collecting items that they will need on their journey. She’s in Pippa’s borrowed sweater from the night before and a second pair of leggings. It feels strange to be free of the constricting dress she’s worn for decades. But when she’d held the fabric in her hands, staring down at it, unable to move to dress herself, the cloth had flamed beneath her fingers, melting at her touch, charing along the lace edging.

Pippa had come up beside her and touched her arm then, and Hecate had dropped the dress, wide-eyed as it had fallen to the floor and lay heaped, smoking at her feet.

Pippa’s sweater smells like tea roses, smells like Pippa. She ducks her nose a bit so she can more fully capture the scent. It calms her, grounds her, and she keeps her line of vision fixed on Pippa’s busy form, blushing when their eyes meet, heart fluttering at the way Pippa’s expression goes soft and tender at the sight of her.

“Almost ready,” Pippa sighs, dusting her hands together and vanishing their breakfast back to the kitchens. “You do you need, or want, to send any sort of communication to Cackle’s?” She moves and sits beside her, hand warm against her back. Hecate leans into the touch, even as her stomach dips.

“The proper thing would be to inform them of my whereabouts.” She chews on her lip.

She thinks of Ada. Perhaps she’s worried. But not enough to call Pippa herself, she thinks. Biting down harder she gasps a little when she tastes blood. Pippa looks at her in concern.

“I don’t,” she chokes out, “much feel like being proper.” Her hands are bundled in her lap, knuckles aching at the tension that causes her fingers to curl tightly together.

Pippa rests her hand on Hecate’s. “I think you should do whatever feels best to you right now. Mildred knows you’re with me, I expect she will have passed on the message.”

Hecate knows there’s a lot Pippa is holding back from saying, can tell by the sudden tension in her body, even as her hand remains soft and comforting on Hecate’s own.

“Mildred Hubble.” She can’t say more. Guilt presses sharply against her lungs and she shakes her head. “She should have taken your scholarship.” It hurts to say. It hurts so badly, and Hecate shuts her eyes, waiting for Pippa to agree, waiting for her to say _I told you so_.

Instead, Pippa just lets out a long, slow breath and shifts closer so they’re sitting flush, fingers locking together.

“She deserves better,” Hecate whispers after a long while and Pippa squeezes her hand.

“I think,” Pippa murmurs, “that Mildred has learned a great deal from you.”

Hecate shakes her head feeling is. “‘I’m little more than a fraud.”

“You’re a good teacher,” Pippa insists. “You’ve raised two generations of witches. Your reputation is well known -”

“‘As a strict disciplinarian stuck firmly in the past’” Hecate grits out. “Your words. And not untrue ones.”

Pippa looks unhappy. “It was unkind of me. I only meant to warn you about how the council was positioningthe state of the school in their coup for power. I’d came to Cackle’s - because - because, well, if things had to change, I wanted to try to protect you from them sending another Doomstone, or the like. Or a Broomhead. And, yes, I admit, to work closely with you if given the chance -”

“I wish you had -” Hecate gulps, turning towards her. “I wish -” she struggles around the words, her mind fighting her ability to confront the truth. It won’t come and she shakes her head, trying to breath through the doubt that crowds her mind.

“Ada could have let me go years ago.” It’s hardly more than a whisper, sticking in Hecate’s throat before raggedly spilling from her like an unmentionable secret.

Pippa’s lips are a thin line. “Is that why you were so defensive when I came to possibly take her place last year?”

Hecate gasps, trying to recall her feelings of protectiveness towards Ada, her urge to right what she once thought were wrongs. Prejudices. Terrible injustices.

“I couldn’t face the truth,” she whispers finally, lips trembling.

Beside her, Pippa shifts. “When someone has power over you - sometimes - sometimes you find that you will defend them more than you will defend yourself.” She shakes her head, and Hecate realizes that Pippa understands her better than most. “It gets warped. It seems safer.” Pippa touches her cheek. “Ada had quite a bit of power over you.”

Head bowing, Hecate can’t help the tears that come. “I thought she was my friend.”

Pippa doesn’t answer. Can’t answer, maybe. And Hecate buries her face in her hands, tears coming thick and fast as she hunches, sobs wracking through her. It feels like loss. Like grief. There’s an anger too, but her mind skirts around it, unable and unwilling to give herself over to what it would mean to feel it in full.

She can feel Pippa’s hand on her back, steadying her, and, after a long spell when she’s calmer, she uncurls and sits up. Pippa has tear tracks down her own cheeks, and Hecate leans against her, limp and spent.

Pippa reaches out for her hand again and Hecate takes it, threading their fingers together, and for a while they simply breathe, side by side and hand in hand. Having Pippa with her makes her feel brave, not so alone, and she tilts her head more fully against Pippa’s trying to communicate the emotion. Pippa squeezes her hand, and Hecate knows she knows.

Eventually she takes a deep inhale, feeling steadier. “We should fly before it gets much later.”

Pippa eyes her. “Are you still up for it?” Her tone is gentle, and Hecate knows she’s being so cautious, that she’d be as happy to stay as she would be to go. But she nods and stands, pulling Pippa up.

“I am.”

 _More than ready_ , she thinks. But her stomach flutters at the thought of open skies and a world uncharted.

“Have you a map?” She blushes a little but Pippa doesn’t laugh. Instead conjures one from a nearby bookshelf and leads Hecate to the table, bending over beside her to show her the route.

“We’re here,” Pippa points, pink-nailed finger tapping on the painted parchment. “And the cottage is here.” She drags her finger along the distance and then points to an outcropping of land along the coast. “It’s about an hour away - forty-five minutes if the wind is in our favor.”

Hecate peers at the map, cheeks pinking, mouth tugging up. “What’s this?” Her own black nail taps over the location of Cackle’s where a small heart has been drawn to mark the spot.

Pippa flushes and looks up at her from under her lashes. “Nothing,” she mutters, trying to pull Hecate’s finger away.

“Nothing?” Hecate mimics, unyielding as Pippa tugs at her hand. They’re both smiling - shy and amused - and Hecate turns her hip to the table, giving in to Pippa and moving her hand to Pippa’s waist instead. “Nothing?” she murmurs again, angling her head so their lips are centimeters apart.

“Mmmm,” Pippa smiles, lips finding Hecate's. “I plead guilty.” Hecate sighs into her mouth, body warming at the feeling of Pippa against hers. When Pippa pulls back, she dazed and needy, and Pippa smiles a little wickedly - all together too charmingly to be allowed. “We can decide on my punishment later. But I think kisses will be involved.” She hesitates, biting her lip. “I probably shouldn’t joke about punishments.”

But Hecate, heart beating unevenly, draws her closer again, hand splaying on her lower back until they’re nose to nose. “I think,” she breathes, lungs following the ragged motion of her heart, “that I’ve read of such things. Only a little but I - “ she breaks off, shame and desire waring within her, and Pippa brings an arm over her shoulder, draping it so that her hand hangs down over Hecate’s back.

“What have you been reading, Miss Hardbroom?” Her tone is teasing, but there’s a question in her eyes. She smiles when Hecate nearly does as well.

“There’s hardly anything of - of an _adult_ nature in the Cackle’s library.”

Pippa’s eyebrows lift. “I should think not.”

“But I - I have confiscated a great many things over the years and - it really is amazing what some of the older girls sneak into the castle.” She frowns. “And then there’s Dimity Drill who is always _leaving her possessions_ in the Cackle’s staffroom.

Pippa laughs, full and delighted. “Oh Hecate, Dimity has been trying to figure you out for _years_. She leaves those books intentionally. She told me so.”

Hecate stares. “Dimity _Drill_ \- “

Ribs quaking beneath Hecate’s hands, Pippa laughs harder. “She wanted to see if you’d twig. You never did, but she said the books did keep disappearing. She was disappointed when she couldn’t _prove_ _it was you_.”

Hecate sniffs. “She has abysmal taste.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Pippa murmurs, and suddenly her fingers are sliding up Hecate’s stomach, up over her chest to her shoulders. “I think I might need to thank her. If her ‘abysmal taste,’ has been giving you _ideas_.”

Pippa laughs softly against her lips, obviously pleased, and Hecate stands stock still for a moment before responding. “I have ideas.” She pulls back and looks at Pippa, eyes wide. “But they’re just that. Ideas.”

Soft hands cup her face and Pippa gazes at her, fond affection and sincerity across her face. “Anything you want to try, I will,” she whispers. “I just want you to know that you’re loved. That being - being intimate with you - “ there’s a flush creeping up Pippa’s neck and Hecate watches her breathing shifts. She can’t tell if it’s emotional or arousal, but Pippa bites her lip and she suspects it’s both. “I can’t think of a greater honor,” Pippa breathes, and leans in to kiss her sweetly. “I want to be vulnerable with you. I want to - to explore things.” She gazes up at Hecate and her smile is so soft that Hecate wants to crush her to her and never let her go. “I said once that we’d make a great team. I think we would in bed as well. I want to know that side of you. Of us. What we mean to each other.”

Hecate brings her hands up, cupping Pippa’s face. “You do?”

Pippa’s smile widens. “I do.”

“I want to say that I’ve never let myself imagine. I’ve tried not to -”

“But you have.”

Hecate’s thumbs stroke Pippa’s cheeks, eyes desperate as she looks into Pippa’s own. “So many times.”

Pippa lets out a small noise, a gasp and a sigh all in one, and suddenly they’re kissing. And suddenly Hecate realizes she has Pippa pressed against the table and Pippa’s sliding back on it. And her knees are on either side of her waist, and her hands are tangling in Hecate’s sweater - in her still unbound hair - and Hecate is keening into her mouth, filled with heady, needy, frantic desire.

Pippa slows the kiss and pulls back eyes shining. “Do you want to do this here,” she whispers, hands sliding under Hecate’s sweater and up her bare back, making her shudder. “Or can you wait just a little longer?”

Hecate shakes her head, mouth finding Pippa’s again as if Pippa the very air she breathes. “I want you -” she pants, self-restraint ebbing and flowing through her like an unpredictable tide. “I want to - to -” she can’t give voice to it and kisses Pippa again, cupping her face, sliding her hands down to rest on Pippa’s thighs. Pippa squeaks and her fingernails press briefly into Hecate’s skin making her keen.

“Pippa,” she whispers, and tries to marshal her thoughts. She kisses her, having learned by now just want makes Pippa whimper, how the slight brush of her tongue can make her gasp. Regretfully she pulls away. “But perhaps our first time together shouldn’t be on your dining table.”

Pippa laughs, still breathing heavily. “I have a dining table at the cottage,” she promises and hops off down, brushing close against Hecate. “I promise we can make good use of it during our stay.”

Hecate flushes, eyebrows high as Pippa laughs again. “But I agree,” she reaches up and drags her thumb along the bottom edge of Hecate’s lip, gathering up smudged lipstick. “I want your first time to be in a proper bed. I want to be able to take our time.” She takes Hecate’s hand and conjures open the window, summoning over their broom and belongings as well.

She mounts up and Hecate hesitates.

“Hiccup?”

“I - I - “ Her body is still sore from yesterday, her magic ill-at-ease after the high emotions of the day. She looks at her broom and then at Pippa feeling helpless.

“Would you like to ride with me?”

Hecate looks away, her incompetence and foolishness giving rise to the sharp sting of tears at the base of her eyes. She hears Pippa slide off her broom and come to stand before her. Feels her take her hand.

“I know this is just a ploy to get to kiss my neck while we fly. But I warn you, Hiccup, if I crash us, you will be solely responsible.”

Hecate laughs. Loudly and unexpectedly and her eyes find Pippa’s. They share a look, and Hecate squeezes Pippa’s hand.

“Thank you, Pipsqueak.”

They settle on Pippa’s broom and Hecate lets her hands fall to Pippa’s waist, heart fluttering as she presses tightly against her from behind.

“Alright?” Pippa breathes as Hecate rests her chin on Pippa’s shoulder. Turns her head. Presses a hot, lingering, open mouth kiss to the curve where Pippa’s neck meets her shoulder.

Pippa makes a noise, deep and throaty, the broom trembling beneath them. “None of that,” she scolds, and Hecate hears a catch in her voice.

“Hmmm, we’ll see.” She murmurs, returning her chin to Pippa’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll get us there in one piece.”

“No thanks to you,” Pippa grumbles, and Hecate’s heart rises like the broom, glows like the sunshine that meets them, as they soar through the window and out into the open, blue sky. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Home.”
> 
> The word is unfamiliar. She’s never had a home. Never had a place to call her own. There had been foster parents, and Broomhead, and then Cackle’s.
> 
> Cackle’s.
> 
> Drawing in another breath she curls her fingers once more into the soft, cool dirt. She imagines her fingers are roots. She imagines she could bloom here.
> 
> Pippa kisses her cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when did this get to be 5 chapters. i did not sign up for like...a multi multi chapter fic. 
> 
> but . oops. 
> 
> rating increase. *fans self*
> 
> comments are everything :)

In the end she’s glad she rides with Pippa. Flying high above the world, watching it flash below - towns, and forests, and places she’s never known - fills her with longing, with terror, and she clings to Pippa completely undone.

 _The world’s so big_ , she thinks, though she is larger now than when she left it.

Pippa’s still an excellent flier. The journey is smooth and the air fresh and cool. She buries her face in Pippa’s neck out of emotion when she cannot bear to look upon the earth below a moment longer, and Pippa holds the broom steady, easing them over pockets of weather and wind.

“Hiccup,” Pippa’s voice calls after they’ve been flying for some time. Hecate has her face pressed so tightly into Pippa’s shoulder that she can hardly breath, but Pippa holds the broom on course with one hand and touches Hecate’s hand for a moment with the other. “Look, sweetheart, the sea.” Hecate can feel the words vibrate in the cathedral of Pippa’s back where she presses against her, and after a moment she raises her head, blinking in the sunlight.

Before them in the distance the earth is covered in a sparkling, pale wash. It glitters in the sun that sits low in the sky, flashing off the surface and dazzling Hecate’s eyes. It’s as if the world just drops away, off into nothing, and she buries her face back in Pippa’s neck for a moment before shifting so that she can keep one eye on the seemingly endless horizon.

Pippa murmurs something reassuring but it’s lost to the wind and Hecate presses closer to her, tears slicking from her face in the jet stream of their wake, overcome from both the terrible beauty and the terrible vastness of the sea.

They’re descending now, and Hecate looks down to see a patchwork of flowering gardens and small cottages rising to meet them on a cliffside below. The sea is swift approaching, and she gasps at the way the sun catches the water, turning it hot white and jeweled indigo, dazzling silver and flashing blue in turns.

 _Indigo_.

Her face is back in Pippa’s neck, tears wetting her sweater and skin. She can feel Pippa’s words again, a steady stream now, soothing her, grounding her until at last the ground rises up beneath them to share the load.

Hecate slides of the broom, legs shaking, knees beyond her command and Pippa moves quickly, catching her about the waist to hold her upright. It’s the second time in as many days that Hecate’s dismounted a broomstick only to collapse in Pippa’s arms, and she tightens her grip on Pippa’s shoulders, leaning into her heavily.

She can feel Pippa breathing and turns her focus to that. She can feel the warmth of her skin through the sweater and the chill of her nose where is presses against her collarbone. Slowly, slowly, she opens her eyes.

They’re standing in a garden. Or perhaps it is a fairyland. Flowers of every sort wave in the gentle breeze, crowds of purples, and oranges, and yellows, and pinks. There’s greenery everywhere. Herbs to equal the Cackle’s greenhouses. Roses the size of cabbages and cabbages that are streaked through with purple and green. Morning glories twine themselves along the picket fence and sunflowers track their namesake through the sky above, turning their heads to look west as shadows lengthen along the path before them.

Hecate lets out a breath. It comes from deep within her. She breathes in salty, sun-warmed air and breathes out decades of musty halls and dusty books. The garden calls her closer. It feels like home already - ingredients well known to her but so seldom hand collected beckon her with their bright colors and heady scents - she releases Pippa and stumbles forward.

Her knees give out in a patch of lemon balm and blossoming camomile and she falls to the earth, hands in the dirt, forehead pressing down as the sweet smelling flowers wave and bob around her. Pippa’s hand is against her back, and Hecate’s mind is filled with color and filled with darkness all at once. She can only lay, dizzy, drowning, as her mind flashes hot with emotion and then black with pain. The earth smells different here. The air feels different. And there’s a sound. A distant rush and roar. She nearly covers her ears but finds she doesn’t want to make it stop.

Time must pass.

She comes back to herself as the sights, and sounds, and scents begin to edge their way into the more familiar. She lets herself go limp, sliding over onto her back and staring up at the sky. It’s gone twilight, she realizes, and gazes up at the dome of the world, hardly breathing as the evening sky above her streaks itself with pastel purples, blues, and pinks.

Beside her Pippa reaches down and brushes Hecate’s long hair from her eyes where it’s come free from her braid. She tilts her head into Pippa’s touch and lets her eyes slip closed for a moment before blinking them back open to watch a lone bird spiral lazily through the empty sky above.

Pippa’s fingers continue to work through her hair, unhurried and calming. And Hecate glances up at her, hardly able to collect her thoughts let alone formulate all the words she wishes she could say.

In the end, Pippa knows her far too well.

She guides Hecate so that she leans back against her, fingers starting to work through the tangles in her hair instead, hand coming to cup the back of Hecate’s head as she guides her back against her shoulder.

“Welcome home.” Pippa’s breath is warm against her ear, her body soft and familiar. “Well, my home. But - “she moves so that her chin is resting against Hecate’s cheek, “but yours, too. If you want it to be.”

Wordlessly, Hecate draws in a shaky breath, looking down the path and taking in for the first time the green cottage that nestles in the thicket of leaves and color. Roses climb the sides and flowers dot the green cladding where they wave merrily from window boxes. The cottage seems to wink in the growing twilight - Pippa must have spelled the lights on - and Hecate sits up further, captivated by the warm light that blurs before her as tears fill her eyes once more.

“Home.”

The word is unfamiliar. She’s never had a home. Never had a place to call her own. There had been foster parents, and Broomhead, and then Cackle’s.

Cackle’s.

Drawing in another breath she curls her fingers once more into the soft, cool dirt. She imagines her fingers are roots. She imagines she could bloom here.

Pippa kisses her cheek.

“Shall we?”

Silently Hecate nods and Pippa helps her upright, wraps a firm arm about her waist and guides her into the house. The door swings open to reveal a tastefully decorated space and a curving staircase with a sitting room to one side and a large and airy kitchen to the other.

Hecate steps forward, transfixed, and Pippa moves them through to the kitchen, turning on the tap and guiding Hecate’s hands under the water, fingers gentle as she washes the dirt from her skin. When she’s done she dries Hecate with a towel, standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Would you like a tour?”

Hecate nods. She can’t keep her eyes still, can’t cease from looking at all the signs of life that make the room - as unlike Cackle’s as it is - seem familiar. The cauldron on the shelf, the collection of potions that line one wall. The broom that Pippa’s magicked to hang on a rack by the door. Touches of Pippa lend themselves to easing her into the newness of the space as well. The pink sweater on the hook beside the broom, the photos on the wall, the stack of books on Modern Magic that sit on the large butcher block table beside a hamper.

“Oh good, Muriel got my message,” Pippa peeks in the hamper then up at Hecate. “My neighbor is a dear. A rather old witch who has lived here for an age. Practitioner of Sea Magic and all around good egg, if a bit dotty. She brings over a few groceries when she knows I’m coming in. We can go to the shops tomorrow.”

The hamper lid snicks shut and Pippa takes Hecate’s elbow guiding her through to the living room. “Or I can go to the shops and you can collect some items from the garden. You let me know - the town is there whenever you feel up for it.” She squeezes Hecate softly and Hecate loses her breath as they round the corner and large windows come into view framing the setting sun that sits like a half moon just along the horizon. The sea is set aflame with light and Hecate leans into Pippa, staring out at the water.

“I’ve never imagined - “ her voice catches - “I’ve never imagined such a thing.”

Pippa ducks in so that Hecate’s arms are around her and they stand and watch the waves catch the light.

There’s a flash of green and the sun disappears from view and Hecate jumps.

“Was that a spell?”

Pippa laughs. “Another sort of magic. Nature’s magic.” Guiding her to the stairs, Pippa explains as they climb. “It’s a refraction of sunlight bending in the atmosphere - like a prism. Blue and violet scatter, the warmer tones are absorbed. But for a second - an instant really - the green light can make its way to us sometimes. I always like to try to catch it but it’s rare I actually do.”

She tugs Hecate along a hall and points, “Through there is the bathroom. And here’s - here’s our room.” It’s said so shyly that Hecate feels herself reaching for Pippa’s hand to reassure her.

The room is large and gives way to the same view as the living room. The last of the light is vanishing in ribbons of streaky orange, and Hecate takes in the clean, well ordered room. The pastel accents, the large inviting bed.

They look at each other and Pippa’s biting her lip. There’s a weight in the air between them and Hecate takes her other hand so that they face each other.

“I believe I promised to help remind you about dinner.”

Pippa laughs, eyes sliding from the bed to Hecate, and she once again rises on her toes to kiss her. Hecate turns her head so that it lands against her cheek. “I don’t trust myself,” she murmurs and they both look at each other a little shyly. Hecate pulls Pippa to her and kisses her atop the head instead.

“Perhaps dinner and then then we -“

“Then we -“ Pippa echoes. She pulls back and looks up at her, eyes warm, sparkling, and Hecate longs to kiss her but resists.

“Dinner,” she says resolutely, for Pippa’s eyes are growing dark and needy.

She blinks and then laughs, and together they turn and hand and hand return to the kitchen below.

____

Cooking is precisely like potions she realizes as Pippa has her mince garlic and julienne vegetables. Together they prepare a savory stew, Pippa’s chin resting on her shoulder as she oversees Hecate’s work. Pippa’s body is so warm and it curves so perfectly against her own. It makes her shiver. It makes her flush.

Pippa flushes too. Every time their eyes meet, which is often. The air between them is still heavy, laden with anticipation, with possibility, and Hecate feels heat coiling her her stomach, slow and gradual. Every time their hands brush, bodies touch, eyes meet it grows headier still.  

They eat together at the kitchen table in the warm glow of lamplight, the darkness outside now complete, pressing against the windows but kept at bay by the warmth within. They talk a little, companionably, and Hecate glows warm as Pippa tells her eagerly more about light refractions and the research she’s been doing.

 _Rainbow_ _Magic_ , she calls it, laughingly, and Hecate rolls her eyes with no ire, just easy and desperately fond affection.

They wash up together, moving slowly, as if the tension between them is a thing to be savored, and Hecate finds her heart is beating wildly. The brush of the towel against the plate she’s holding could be done by magic, she knows, but the tactile act grounds her, makes everything seem more real somehow when everything else seems lurid and dreamlike.

She finishes leisurely, glancing at Pippa from under her lashes, and Pippa takes the towel from her, folding it neatly and hanging it over the rack by the stove.

Their eyes meet again.

Pippa takes Hecate’s hand.

The journey back up the stairs is deliberately unhurried, though Hecate can sense a rising friction in the air between them. The lights downstairs wink out as they ascend, and Pippa pulls her into the bedroom, shutting the door and turning to face her, cheeks pink, chest rising and falling a little breathlessly.

“Is this - ?”

Hecate steps forward. Raises her hands and cradles Pippa’s face between her palms. Kisses her forehead. Kiss first one cheek, and then the other. Kisses the corner of her mouth in a soft brush of lips against skin.

Drawing back they regard each other. Pippa’s lashes are damp and Hecate blinks at the own tears that gather in her eyes.

“Yes,” she breathes, and Pippa’s arms hook around her waist, drawing her closer.

Their next kiss is languid, filled with promise and comfort, until Pippa nips a little at her lower lip, drawing Hecate’s between her own, tongue flicking out to brush against the sensitive skin. Hecate gasps, letting Pippa lick into her mouth, letting her cup her face and control the kiss until Hecate is panting. Knees once again weak, she runs a hand down Pippa’s back, finds her hip, slides up and over her abdomen, fingers brushing against the soft curve of her breast, gentle against the fabric of Pippa’s sweater. Her hands work back down, finding their way to Pippa’s hem, sliding beneath and back up as Pippa whimpers into her mouth.

Hecate lets her fingers explore soft, warm skin. She skates them down and up Pippa’s side, delighting in the small sounds Pippa makes, delighting when Pippa moves her mouth down and along her neck. She shudders at Pippa’s hot, open mouth kisses, keens when Pippa’s mouth turns to just below her ear, finding the spot that makes Hecate’s nails scrap unintentionally against the skin of Pippa’s ribs.

Pippa drags her teeth along that same spot again and Hecate hisses, hand withdrawing to tug uselessly at Pippa’s top.

“I want this off.” The sweater tangles around Pippa’s arms and Pippa laughs, lifting them so Hecate can guide it free.

Pippa’s hands turn to repeat the process with Hecate’s sweater. “It’s only fair,” she teases, eyes bright and laughing.

The garment comes free and Hecate watches transfixed as Pippa slides her fingers beneath the waistband of her own leggings and tugs them down, stumbling slightly as they catch around her feet. Hecate steadies her by her elbow and Pippa laughs again, throwing them to the side and straightening.

And Hecate can’t laugh at all.

Pippa is all tan skin and long, lean muscle. Sculpted thighs and perfect calves, and a long and glorious abdomen that Hecate can suddenly only imagine licking her way down. Can suddenly think only of finding herself between Pippa’s thighs. Imagines pulling the curve of her calf over her shoulder.

Mouth dry she swallows, suddenly feeling shy and inadequate in her borrowed leggings and plain cotton bra. But Pippa’s moved in before she can hesitate, wrapping her arms around Hecate, mouth finding her collarbone as her fingers splay against Hecate’s naked back, sliding down to the curve of her hips, fingers dipping below the cloth there as she leans up and kisses her playfully.

“Lovely as you are in my clothes,” Pippa breathes in her ear, “I know how glorious you’ll be out of them.” She kisses Hecate swiftly, fingers still tucked beneath Hecate’s waistband. “May I?”

Shyly, Hecate manages a nod, breath catching when Pippa slides down with the leggings, kneeling at Hecate’s feet to help her step free. She tosses them to join her own and remains on her knees, gazing up at Hecate with parted lips and wide, dilated eyes.

“Darling.”

It’s hardly a whisper, and Hecate shifts, all to aware of her pale body. How she’s rather more bone and sharp angles, but still soft where Pippa is firm. Curved where Pippa’s toned muscles ripple. Pippa’s fingers trail lightly against the skin on the outside of her thighs and she leans in and presses a kiss just above Hecate’s left kneecap before scooting herself up and rising. She  crushes Hecate against her so that they’re skin to skin.

“I want -“ Pippa kisses her until she spins, “to see all of you.” Her fingers brush over the clap of Hecate’s bra and Hecate pulls back, eyes wide, gasping.

Her fingers go to Pippa’s breasts and reverently she passes them over the lace there. Studies the way her hands look against the pale pink of the bra, longs to see how they look against the golden glow of Pippa’s skin.

The bra vanishes and Pippa mewls, arching into Hecate’s hands as her head falls back at the feeling of Hecate’s palms against her breasts.

“Naughty,” Pippa whispers, and Hecate reclaims Pippa’s mouth, tongue busy against her lower lip, hips pushing firmly against Pippa’s own as they press frantically together.

Pippa’s nipples harden under her fingertips and she makes a sound that has Hecate echoing her, fascinated by how the simple brush of her fingers can reduce Pippa to such a state. Experimentally she rolls on of Pippa’s nipples between her fingers and Pippa jolts against her, head snapping up as her eyes squeeze shut then fly open, wide with arousal.

Hecate bites her lip. Leans in and bites Pippa’s lip. Smiles a little to hear her laugh then twitches as Pippa’s fingers unhook her bra and it falls down her arms between them.

Pippa doesn’t bother pulling it away and ducks her head instead, wasting no time in taking Hecate into her mouth, tongue warm as she traces just around Hecate’s nipple until she squirming. Taking pity on her, Pippa’s lips close around her nipple, sucking firmly, and Hecate cups the back of Pippa’s head, arching into her, knees trembling as the room fills with the sound of her sharp inhales and needy exhales.

Pippa guides her back and they fall into the bed, a tangle of warm limbs and wandering hands. And Hecate finds herself on her back, Pippa over her, Pippa kissing her, Pippa’s fingers on her breasts, Pippa’s thigh between her legs. Pippa’s body covers hers, rocks against hers, works her towards madness.

“Pippa -“ she gasps, hot strands of desire spooling low in her stomach. The sharp, aching sensation is growing, twisting through her nervous system, and her body arcs off the bed when Pippa’s mouth finds its way back down to her breasts. “Pippa.”

“Mmmm?” Pippa’s tongue is busy against her nipple, her eyes lidded as she looks up at Hecate. But she doesn’t cease the act that is driving Hecate to desperation and it pushes Hecate further into spiraling, wanting dizziness.

“I want to - I want -“ she tugs on Pippa’s shoulders and Pippa slides back up, marking the path with her mouth and tongue and Hecate shudders in her arms, keening when they’re once again mouth to mouth. She twists, rolling them until Pippa’s beneath her, hair like spun gold in the lamp light as it spills across the duvet. And Hecate wants to look at her like this forever.

But she wants to kiss her more.

Leaning in she lets her mouth connect with Pippa’s. Gently, deliberate in both focus and intensity. And Pippa’s fingers curl in her hair, her hips shifting under Hecate’s. She bends her knees and Hecate suddenly lays between Pippa’s thighs, cradled against her, warm and secure.

She hums into her mouth, pleased, and Pippa keeps a hand in her hair as Hecate kisses down her throat, takes extra care against the dip where her clavicles meet at the center of her chest. She has to nose aside Pippa’s necklace, and smiles at the sight of the Pentangle charm.

 _It’s so fitting that Pippa’s a star,_ she thinks vaguely, pulling back and looking at Pippa bathed in the lamplight. She bites her lip at how it fills her with a warm longing, and continues on her quest, kissing lower until she can run her tongue along Pippa’s abdomen. The muscles ripple beneath her mouth and she focuses intensely on a spot just above Pippa’s hip. Fingers tighten against Hecate’s scalp, Pippa’s breathless little whimpers breaking the quiet of the room, and Hecate follows her tongue with her fingers, watching in fascination at how Pippa’s body reacts.

Glancing up she watches Pippa watching her and blushes.

“I want -“ she repeats, and shifts so that she’s a little lower still. Tentatively she touches the waistband of Pippa’s underwear, biting her lip. Pippa seems hardly to be breathing, but holds her gaze. And Hecate sits back and then touches her fingertips to the damp stain that turns the pale pink fabric between Pippa’s legs a dark and dusky rose.

Pippa’s breath catches, and she does blink then, eye falling closed as she shifts a little. But then her eyes return to watching Hecate and she parts her legs a little further. And Hecate breathes a sigh of relief at the invitation. She draws in a breath to calm her nerves.

“Will you help me?” She whispers, fingers tracing along the dampness. Pippa, already gasping, manages a nod and slides back a bit so she’s resting amongst the pillows more comfortably but still able to watch Hecate with dark, half-lidded eyes.

Turning her hand, Hecate drags the back of her knuckle against the fabric, watching Pippa’s face, listening to the changes in her breathing. Pippa bites at her bottom lip, moving a little restlessly and Hecate abandons all caution and replaces her finger with her mouth, kissing softly, tongue pressing against the cloth. Pippa lets out a high whine, fingers finding Hecate’s shoulder, and Hecate breathes Pippa in, lets herself seek out Pippa’s taste, nuzzles closer as Pippa makes another noise of encouragement.

She kisses up against towards Pippa’s hip and then down until her mouth is against the smooth, firm skin on Pippa’s inner thigh and Pippa’s knees fall open, her head tilting back before her eyes come back to Hecate’s.

Hecate dips her fingers beneath the waistband and Pippa gives a small nod, eyes soft, and Hecate slowly works the fabric down Pippa’s long legs, throat dry and eyes hardly so as it falls away.

“Pippa -“ she whispers, overcome by emotion. Tenderness is rising in her, outweighing uncertainty, and all she knows is the desire to keep Pippa safe. To make her happy. To protect her from the world at any cost. It’s sharp and fierce, nearly overwhelming in its intensity, and she lets her cheek drop to Pippa’s thigh, gazing up at her as Pippa’s fingers stroke through her hair.

“I love you,” she whispers, words sticking a little on the emotion in her throat. She has to swallow several times to get it out, and Pippa’s smile is wet and bright, her hands gentle as she brushes Hecate’s hair behind her ear.

“I love you, Hiccup. My Hecate.”

And Hecate turns her face, burying her nose against Pippa’s skin, reveling in the way Pippa says her name.

 _Hecate_.

 _My Hecate_.

She doesn’t want to be Joy, she realizes suddenly. It’s no longer a lost past, or a terrifying future. It’s simply a part of her. And she is Hecate. Just Hecate.

Pippa’s Hecate.

She kisses away the tears that smear against Pippa’s leg and raises her head. And Pippa scoots down, pulling her up between her knees so that she can kiss her. It’s so tender, filled with such love and vulnerability, with permission and trust, and Hecate gently urges her back against the pillows. “Lay back.” She whispers, “Please?”

And Pippa nods. She looks like she can’t quite believe her eyes, and Hecate reaches up and touches her cheek.

“I’ve dreamed of this.” she assures her. “For so long. If you’ll be patient with me? Help me along?”

Pippa’s fingers find her own, squeezing gently. “Yes.”

Blushing, Hecate can’t fight the smile that tugs at the corners of her mouth. She buries her face in Pippa’s hip, smiles against her skin and then kisses her there. Kisses her way lower, marvels at the way Pippa’s legs fall open once again, at the feeling she gets in her chest as she looks down at Pippa vulnerable and wanting beneath her.

She trails a finger through the slick of moisture that coats Pippa’s thighs, eyes wide. She kisses it away, as she had her own tears, whimpering a little at the taste of Pippa on her tongue.

Pippa’s once again watching her, once again breathless, and Hecate edges closer, lets one arm slip beneath Pippa’s thigh and hook against her so that she can move closer still.

For a moment she focuses solely on the world that has opened to her between Pippa’s legs, taking her in, feeling the responding curl of arousal between her own legs. And then slowly, so slowly, she lets her tongue find Pippa’s heat.

They both make small sounds, and Hecate steadies herself on an inhale, repeating the motion, this time a little more boldly. Pippa’s head falls back and her fingers slide to Hecate’s cheek. Hecate parts her lips and takes Pippa in her mouth, smiling a little as Pippa gently guides her closer, nudges her into a more comfortable angle, shifts her hips to allow Hecate better access.

She explores Pippa’s taste and finds a spot that has Pippa panting, has her hip rolling.  And Hecate smiles as Pippa starts tripping over her name, hands back in her hair, eyes squeezing shut as she rocks against Hecate.

“A little to the right,” she whispers and Hecate obeys, rewarded when Pippa shudders, whining desperately as Hecate holds the pace.

Still, it’s not enough, and Hecate draws back, giving Pippa a moment to collect herself. She drinks Pippa in, her flushed and trembling form, heart overflowing with love for the sight of her like this. Once Pippa’s collected herself to open her eyes, Hecate reaches up and uncurls Pippa’s hand from her hair, holding it gently in her own and kissing her knuckles.

She turns her fingers so that Pippa’s hand encases her own, and draws it down between Pippa’s legs. “Show me?”

They look at each other for a moment, affection nearly drowning out the arousal between them, but then Pippa’s guiding her hand lower and they’re both gasping. Pippa guides her fingers through her heat and Hecate feels dizzy and the slick sensation, dizzier still at the sounds Pippa makes then, at the way her own fingers suddenly press against Pippa’s center.

“Hecate,” Pippa gasps, and Hecate’s fingers trace around her opening. “Hecate -“

Pippa’s body is tense, as though Hecate’s very touch will cause her to shatter, and Hecate allows Pippa to position her, guiding her fingers slowly inside.

They both make sharp sounds, and Pippa freezes, breathing through her nose. Hecate can feel the warmth of her, wet heat around her fingers. Pippa’s muscles flutter against her touch and then Pippa relaxes with a shudder, dropping back against the pillows, fingers tight on Hecate’s hand.

“Is this alright?” Hecate breathes, and Pippa nods, biting her lip as she moves Hecate’s hand to  set a rhythm, her back arching as her hips roll into Hecate’s touch.

“Hecate,” Pippa’s voice hitches, there’s something in her tone, desperate and needy. Her hand moves from Hecate’s wrist to her face, fingers brushing across her cheek before dropping to curl in the sheets. “Hecate.”

Hecate drops her head, planting kisses inside Pippa’s thighs, curling her fingers when she realizes that it’s causing Pippa to make deep, throaty noises that send pulsing shards of arousal through Hecate’s abdomen. Every now and then Pippa will reach out and guide her wrist, bringing her to where she wants her, and Hecate tries to memorize every spot inside of Pippa that makes her shudder, every way that she whines and moans, the way her back arches and her fingers try to find an anchor.

She’s so beautiful, so ethereally beautiful, and Hecate suddenly wishes she had the presence of mind to cast a Remember Spell as to not forget one thing about how Pippa looks, about how she sounds, how it feels to drive her higher and higher towards a breaking point of pleasure.

Pippa’s hips are moving frantically now, and Hecate moves with her, meeting her at every thrust, tears in her eyes as awe fills her. She dips her head and her mouth returns to the spot between Pippa’s legs.

Pippa cries out sharply.

And then Pippa’s hands are back in her hair, guiding her as she moves against her, until suddenly Pippa’s hands are gone again and Hecate looks up to see Pippa clutching at the pillow behind her head, calling out for Hecate as her hips jerk wildly, as her thighs shake that Hecate has to fight to hold them steady.

She can feel Pippa tightening around her fingers, her movements frantic, hips moving as though Pippa has lost all control completely, and Hecate realizes - far too late - that she has, that Pippa’s coming undone at her touch, crying out her name as her body goes taught and then limp as she falls back onto the bed.

But Pippa’s hips still work against her hand, as if she can’t quite seem to stop, and Hecate pulls her mouth away to watch how Pippa’s covering her mouth with her hand, abdominals quivering as she tenses again, trembling around Hecate’s fingers. The tension drains from her then and Hecate keeps her fingers still, trying to catch her breath as she watches Pippa closely.

Blindly Pippa reaches for her, and Hecate slides up the bed, fingers slipping free and Pippa cries out a little. And then she’s beside her, and Pippa’s needy, breathless and shaking, as she pulls Hecate into a hard kiss. It’s only then that Hecate realizes that she’s crying.

“Hecate,” Pippa whispers against her lips and Hecate draws back, heart pounding in apprehension. But Pippa’s smiling through her tears and she kisses her again, pulling her close so that their bodies entwine. Gradually Pippa regains her breath, the small tremors that run through her body dissipating as Hecate holds her close.

“Are you alright?” Pippa breathes, eyes glassy. She gazes up at Hecate looking rather unfocused.

“I’m more concerned for you - “ Hecate whispers, unable to keep the hitch out of her voice. “I’m not sure if I -”

“You were wonderful,” Pippa gasps against her mouth. “You made me feel so good.” Pippa shivers violently again and Hecate adjusts them so she can pull Pippa closer. Pippa brushes her nose against Hecate’s as her lips tug up. “I’m unable to move, darling, you’ve made me come quite undone.”

Hecate can’t stop the blush that rises to her cheeks, nor can she stay the smile that tugs her mouth up into a bow.

Pippa kisses her, sweetly, tenderly, and Hecate sighs.

“Was - was it alright for you?” Now it’s Pippa who sounds uncertain, and Hecate hums,  busy kissing along Pippa’s lower lip.

She pulls back and then blushes to a deeper flush. “I could watch you like that for the rest of my life,” she admits. She feels shy, uncertain, but Pippa crushes their mouths together grinning into the kiss.

“Knowing it was you touching me - after all these years - “ Pippa shivers again, eyes dilating, and Hecate lets her hand smooth down Pippa’s back, pleased when Pippa gasps over a moan.

“I want to watch you come again,” Hecate whispers, nearly overwhelmed by her own boldness. “I want to watch you - feel you - a thousand times.”

Pippa laughs a little, eyes affectionate. “There’ll be plenty of time for that -” she kisses Hecate’s throat, rolling them slightly so she’s once again above her. “But first I think -” her fingers trail down, and Hecate feels her stomach muscles contract at her touch. Pippa’s fingers find their way between her legs and gently part her, and she kisses Hecate then, tongue sliding along her own. It makes Hecate keen, and she arches as steady fingers slip further between her legs.

And Hecate’s head slams back against the pillows, a strangled noise ripping from her as Pippa’s fingers slick through her heat and come away shining with moisture. “Hmmm,” Pippa hums and looks terribly pleased. “I’m glad I’m not the only one in such a state.”

Hecate watches transfixed as Pippa raises her fingers to her mouth and tastes her. Her eyes remain fixed on Hecate’s, her mouth tugging in a smile up even as her cheeks hollow with the motion of sucking Hecate from her fingertips.

Almost instinctively, Hecate realizes that Pippa is enjoying giving her a show. It makes the sensation between her legs surge into such an aching need that she loses her breath entirely, air stuttering from her lungs and Pippa drops her hand and smiles in full.

“Breathe, darling,” Pippa instructs, eyes dancing, and Hecate draws in a ragged breath. She parts her legs a little further, too desperate for Pippa’s touch again to be subtle about what she wants from her next. And Pippa complies, moving over her so that her hand trails from Hecate’s hip and down one thigh, working it’s way slowly back up until Hecate’s whimpering and nearly begging. Pippa settles her fingers just at the apex of her thighs and looks down at her, eyes soft.

“I want to taste you,” she whispers. “But I want to know what you want.”

Head spinning, Hecate finds that the thought of Pippa between her legs nearly tips her over the edge. She clutches at Pippa’s hips.

“I don’t think I could handle it - not yet - please - please, Pippa.” Her hips are rolling of their own accord and she whimpers, cheeks pinking at the state she's in. Pippa leans down and kisses her and Hecate can feel the reassurance in the gesture.

“Of course, darling.” Pippa’s finger dip lower. “Do you want me to touch you here?”

Crying out, Hecate nods desperately, hips jerking and twitching against Pippa’s barely-there touch.

“Mmmm, you’re amazing like this, you know,” Pippa murmurs, and heat surges through Hecate. “Seeing you like this - Hecate - I love seeing you like this.”

Pippa’s voice is naked in its want, and that more than anything convinces Hecate that she’s sincere. It cracks something open within her and she throws back her head, desperate to please Pippa, desperate to bring her pleasure through giving in completely to her touch.

“Please, please,” she begs, hips straining to press closer, watching as Pippa’s eyes turn darker still. And Pippa obliges, fingers tracing through the slickness between her legs, finding where Hecate longs for her.

It’s madness, Hecate thinks, jerking against Pippa. Wild, primal, madness. Her hands tighten against Pippa’s shoulders as she calls out for her, and Pippa keeps her pressure steady, fingers clever as Hecate’s voice splits the night air.

“Pippa -”

“I’m here darling.”

Pippa’s fingers are suddenly tracking lower, and something is blooming inside Hecate. Something overwhelmingly sharp, and bright, and terribly pleasant - and terribly, terribly frightening.

She catches Pippa’s wrist and pulls her hand away, breathing hard. And immediately Pippa submits to her touch, letting Hecate clutch at her, stilling as she waits obediently.

“I can’t - “ Hecate gasps. “I don’t know if I - I’m not sure that I can -”

Everything feels hot and tight. Her skin, her nipples - painfully so -  the tightly wound sensation between her legs. She presses her thighs together - desperate - aching - and cries out in frustration as her body and her mind take up a silent war.

“Hey, hey,” Pippa slips off her to lay alongside her, hands gentle and delicate as if she knows to try to sooth rather than incite. “It’s alright. It’s all going to be alright, darling.” She settles, hand moving to Hecate’s own, twining their fingers together. “Deep breathes, you’re alright, Hecate, you’re just fine.”

Hecate sucks in air, stomach suddenly churning, and Pippa guides Hecate’s palm to her own stomach, breathing with intention until Hecate follows suit.

“You’re alright.” Pippa repeats, voice soft and steady. And Hecate closes her eyes and listens. Matches her breathing to Pippa’s and to the waves that chase the shoreline below. She calms a bit and bites her lip, shame spreading through her like a poison in a well.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, humiliation burning along her cheekbones and she hears Pippa make a small sound.

“Please don’t be sorry - Hecate - you have nothing to be sorry for.”

She feels Pippa sit up beside her on the bed, and tentatively opens her eyes to see her watching her with concern.

“Nothing.” Pippa repeats, voice turning a little ragged, and Hecate swallows.

“But I -”

She doesn’t know how to explain to Pippa how much she wants her. Doesn’t know how to explain the price of letting go. That giving herself over to such vulnerability seems too high a cost. She pulls her hand free from Pippa’s and covers her face with both hands in frustration instead.

“You must find me awfully tedious,” she grits out and Pippa’s hand is on her wrist, pulling her fingers away from her face.

“ _No_.” There’s something steely in Pippa’s gaze and vaguely Hecate remembers that she is a headmistress after all. “I find you gorgeous. Stunning, really, awfully dear to me. You’re worth _everything_. And you mean everything to me, don’t you see? Hecate can’t you see that?”

The scolding drops from her voice, leaving only desperation and near tears. “No matter what, we’re in this together. And sex isn’t about an end goal - not for me. It’s about being close. It’s about celebrating this beautiful thing between us. And in whatever form that takes, it doesn’t change that what we have _is_ beautiful. I love you,” Pippa breathes, voice higher than Hecate’s heard it before. “Loving you means that your comfort comes first. That your needs in bed are paramount. I would do anything - nearly _anything_ \- to make you feel safe, and desired, and happy. And that anything includes _not_ doing things if you’re not comfortable with them.”

Hecate sucks in a breath, tears in her eyes at Pippa’s words.

“But I _want_ ,” she whispers, frustrated tears rolling down her cheeks. She can feel her low lip tremble and longs to turn her face away. But Pippa’s eyes are too warm, too compassionate, and she finds that it’s a far better anchor. “I want to feel you - I want you -” struggling, she shakes her head. “I want you _inside_ of me. I want it more than anything.”

Pippa smiles, gesturing Hecate up until she’s resting back against her chest. It’s a familiar position now, one that makes Hecate’s body respond almost immediately to the security it provides, and she immediately feels her breathing slow and her muscles start to unclench.  

She rests her cheek just over Pippa’s heart and sighs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Pippa’s hands begin to work through her hair again, and Hecate tilts her chin up so she can look up at her.

“I’m not sure I know how to.”

Pippa doesn’t press and Hecate relaxes back against her, lost in thought.

“It feels like a loss of control,” she says finally, and Pippa’s fingers tilt her chin back up.

“That is very understandable. You’ve lived your life for so long built around creating control because there was so little in your life you actually could control.”

Hecate scrubs at her face tiredly. “But when I - when I - “ She huffs. “When I - _you know_ \- “

“Touch yourself?”

“Yes.” Blushing Hecate can’t meet Pippa’s eyes. “When I do that - sometimes this happens. But usually I can - I don’t have a problem - “

“Hmmm.” Pippa kisses her temple, her tone thoughtful. “Perhaps it’s because even then you’re still the one in control. You’re not dependent on another for your release.”

Hecate blinks up at her. “Perhaps.” She shakes her head. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she chokes out, heart hammering in case Pippa should misunderstand.

But Pippa wraps her arms around her, holding her close. “I know that. If you didn’t you wouldn’t have flown straight to Pentangle’s after the spell released you. You wouldn’t have let me care for you - undress you, dress you, look after you. You’ve put such trust in me, Hecate. And I -” her voice trembles, “I can only hope that I live up to that trust. It means everything to me, my darling. Everything.”

Hecate looks up then and shifts so she can cup Pippa’s face. “I love you. I want to be able to show you how much. I want to give you all of me. Everything. I’ve never wanted that with anyone else, but with you -” she nuzzles her nose against Pippa’s and their mouths meet in a lingering kiss. “You’re brighter than the sun,” Hecate breathes. “You make everything else go quiet. The world makes more sense when I’m with you.”

Pippa’s crying again and Hecate wipes at her tears with soft, careful fingers. “You’re my north star,” she whispers and Pippa smiles through her tears.

For a few minutes they sit, forehead to forehead, and Pippa finally shifts a little, pulling up Hecate’s hand to kiss her palm.

“It’s still early. And I do have a rather fabulous bath.” She kisses Hecate’s knuckles. “Would you care to share it with me?”

Hecate feels her breath catch at the thought of warm water slicking down Pippa’s back, beading between her breasts. Of her hair dark and wet, her mouth against Hecate’s as she rocks against her.

“Can I touch you again?” Hecate whispers, eager to feel Pippa come apart around her once more. She finds she craves it, could easily become addicted to giving Pippa pleasure. Pippa blushes and her smile is bright and happy, eyes merry as she shifts Hecate up and scoots to the edge of the bed, reaching to tug Hecate along behind her.

“I wouldn’t want to deprive you,” Pippa laughs and Hecate realizes that her face must be quiet easy for Pippa to read. She’s found it usually is.

Rising as well, Pippa catches her about the waist and holds her close. They stand hip to hip and breast to breast, naked skin cooling in the night air. “And then,” Pippa murmurs, voice gentle, eyes tender, “I have some ideas for you.”

Hecate bites her lip on a smile, heart filling at the way Pippa looks at her, the regard she has for Hecate’s desires and boundaries. Her gentle understanding and the playful way she kisses her.

And Hecate lets Pippa pull her from the room, leading her heart with a gentle hand.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pippa looks bashful. “Is that all?”
> 
> “Yes.” She hesitates. “No. I wanted - I wanted to let you - but under the circumstances - “ She shakes her head in frustration. “After the events of the day I wasn’t able to let my guard down in the way I would have liked. But I was very sorry to see you go, in the end.”
> 
> Pippa blushes and looks unhappy. “In the end.”
> 
> A strange sensation grips Hecate’s chest and she in turn tightens her fingers on Pippa’s. “I was embarrassed. And I was afraid. It would be one thing to be under the curse and beholden to Ada. But if you had become the Head - if you had been transferred ownership of my confinement - “
> 
> Pippa makes a startled movement and suddenly her hands are gripping Hecate’s cheeks. “Oh, Hiccup.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well things have been challenging lately and i've been feeling like i might not be able to write because of where my head has been. i kinda pushed myself to write this because i did want to keep keep going and tell this story. i hope it's ok. i dont feel like myself so i hope that this still feels like my writing.
> 
> also i've done a lot of thinking lately about how Pippa's love language is Words of Affirmation and Hecate's is Acts of Service. i want to make a post about it someday but it def is some of what has inspired parts of this fic

Pippa leads her to the bathroom. Holds her hand the whole way there and doesn’t let go even as she turns on the taps and lets the water run until steam fills the room. She keeps her fingers curled around Hecate, and Hecate holds fast, certain that should she let go she might find herself blown away by the gale storm of emotion that has been tugging at her edges for the past two days. And when Pippa does let go, it’s only long enough to guide down Hecate underwear - her last remaining garment - so that she can pull it off her legs before helping her into the water. Her hand is back in Hecate’s own immediately after as she holds her steady until Hecate is settled in the warm bath.

Hecate aches to pull Pippa to her, to feel her move against her again, to feel her come undone. But the moment the bath water touches her skin all her best laid plans disintegrate at the sensation. In the space of time it takes for Pippa to slips in behind her, her limbs have gone like dead weights, her body heavy even in the water. It’s embarrassing, really, and she struggles rather pathetically in Pippa’s arms, trying to turn and kiss her, only for her mouth to collide with Pippa’s cheek and merely come to rest there, her body weak and useless.

Pippa re-situates her so that she’s tucked more snuggly against her front and whispers ' _It’s all right.’_ And ‘W _e have plenty of time now_.’ And if the words slip past Hecate’s ears as she nods against Pippa’s shoulder, the words ‘ _I love you_ ,’ seem to stick. It’s with a sigh that she gives up the fight, gives over to Pippa’s hands soothing along her arms under the water, and lets herself rest against the soft warmth of her body.

Her body slumps back against Pippa’s and turns her light and weightless. Her head remains heavy, but she drifts in the water, drifts through time. She doesn’t know how long they stay in, only that she nearly dreams she’s flying. Not on a broom, but on perhaps a cloud. There’s warmth, and sun, and Pippa - Pippa - always Pippa now - and she smiles a little, feeling rather inebriated, though she certainly has not been at the witches brew.

She hears Pippa make a sound - or, rather, feels the vibration of it against her cheek. Sleepily she opens her eyes to find Pippa watching her with a considering expression.

“What is it?” There’s a spark of self-consciousness but she suddenly finds she’s too tired from years fighting with herself to fight against this closeness now.

Pippa makes the sound again and shifts her a little. She rubs her cheek against the top of Hecate’s head and her fingers trace along Hecate’s hairline.

“I was just thinking about after the Spelling Bee.”

“Oh.” She drops her gaze, her shame for her actions that week flooding her and she swallows thickly. “I fear I behaved rather badly.”

Perhaps it’s a laugh Pippa makes, Hecate can’t tell, but her hand doesn’t still in it’s journey against Hecate’s scalp.

“No, I wasn’t thinking of the Bee itself. I was thinking about after - in that classroom. When you said you missed me.”

Guilty, Hecate raises her eyes.

“I had missed you.”

 _I do miss you_.

“You called me ‘Pipsqueak.’”

Hecate’s hand finds Pippa’s waist under the water and she settles her palm against the curve of her hip.

“It’s hardly fitting, you’re all grown up now.”

The thought of Pippa as a woman, no longer a girl with curls and pigtails, but a woman - a woman she’s very much sharing a bath with - makes something stir within her and she takes a breath to calm the ache that rises along with the heat in her stomach. It’s muted, given how comfortable she is, and as much as she wants Pippa in her arms again, she’s loathed to move and break this current spell.

Pippa laughs again. “I am. But that wasn’t what I was thinking about either.”

“Then what were you thinking of?” It’s impossible to keep the note of curiosity out of her voice and she tilts her chin up to see Pippa better.

“I was thinking,” Pippa whispers and Hecate can hear the catch in her voice, “I was thinking about how in the years after leaving Cackle’s, every re-encounter we had, every time I’d come back to the school for an event or a reunion, you had changed more and more. Every space of time that brought me back to you turned you more brittle, more rigid and tense. I often thought that if a gust of wind came it might snap you quite in half.”

Hecate sits up and her muscles clench until she's sure she matches Pippa’s description.

“None of that now, darling, come back.” Pippa reaches for her and tugs her in, and Hecate returns to her, though she finds herself still unable to relax, still uncertain where it is that Pippa’s going. “I thought,” Pippa murmurs, voice very near her ear, “that you were untouchable. That if I so much as tried you would push me away.”

Hecate swallows. Can’t help but pull Pippa closer in silent apology. She feels Pippa’s fingers brush down her back and gradually her angles soften - not quit into curves - but less defensive. She turns her nose and presses it to Pippa’s damp collarbone.

“And then there you were - after all my hope was very nearly gone - there you were whispering ‘Pipsqueak.’ And suddenly I realized - I realized that I was no longer talking to _Miss Hardbroom,_ but that I was talking to Hecate. _My_ Hecate. In that moment - your voice - your posture - your eyes. You’d come back to me. And I didn’t think - I didn’t hesitate. I’d quite forgotten my fear of you pushing me away. Because I stepped forward, and you stepped forward, and then I was in your arms and you were holding me - “

Pippa’s voice breaks off and Hecate pushes herself up so that they are nose to nose. She can see the tears on Pippa’s lashes, feel them reverberate in the quiver of her chest where Hecate presses against her.

“Pippa - “

“Even after Mildred caught us you didn’t immediately let go of me.”

A tear falls, making its way down Pippa’s cheek, and Hecate brings up a hand to brush it away. It’s futile, the water from the bath drips from her fingers and only causes a larger streak of wet against Pippa’s skin. She drops her hand so that it’s curling around the back of Pippa’s head, buried in her still dry hair.  

“I didn’t want to let go of you at all.”

It’s a whisper. Hardly a gust of air. Pippa’s lips tremble with emotion, just as they had that day, right before she’d held her.

“I was remembering,” Pippa whispers, “how your whole body relaxed that day. And I was thinking about now - how lucky it is that I am the one to get to hold you like this. To see you like this.” Pippa slides her hand up Hecate’s spine and inches her closer. They both drop their eyes and look down at the way their bodies intertwine under the water, at how the water moves and distorts the shape of them, but how it cannot mask that Hecate has one knee over Pippa’s, how her body presses and curls against her.

“I wanted to tell you everything,” Hecate whispers. “If Mildred hadn't interrupted, I’ve often wondered if I might have.”

“I’m not sure you could have. But I wish that you would have. I wish that I’d known sooner. That I’d understood why - “

“I hurt you.” Hecate gasps. It hits her with utter clarity and she crumples, sitting back on her heels and raising a hand to cover her mouth. “I never guessed how badly.”

“Hiccup -”

There’s something fragile in Pippa’s voice and she’s reaching for her - not touching - and that alone breaks Hecate’s heart further in the realization that Pippa, even in her need, still gives her space to decide.

She slides forward immediately and pulls Pippa to her chest.

“I’m here.” It’s all she can think to whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m here now.” Grief is licking like fire through her and she grips Pippa more firmly. “I’m sorry,” she gasps again and Pippa’s arms come around her waist to hold her tightly.

“You’ve been in an impossible situation,” Pippa sighs when after a long number of moments they part. She wipes at her tears and gives Hecate a watery smile. “And now you’re in my bath. And in my bed - “

Hecate flushes.

“- and you’re not pushing me away.”

The flush turns to grief again and Hecate slides down so she’s back on her knees, her hands searching for Pippa’s under the water.

“You’re softer with me than you are around others,” Pippa whispers. “You let me in. And I'm in awe of it, really.”

Hecate pulls their joined hands up and first kisses one damp knuckle and then the other.

“I love you.” Her voice trembles but it still sounds firm and definite in a way that makes her glad. She turns Pippa’s hands over to kiss the inside of each palm. “I don’t have to be _‘Miss Hardbroom’_ around you because you make me feel safe. You makes me feel like I don’t need to protect myself. Because you know me. You know Hecate. And despite that, you still care for me.”

Pippa smiles wetly, tears on her cheeks. “Of course I do. I always have. I was thinking about how I didn’t hesitate to touch you that day because somehow I knew you would not push me away. Not when you were Hecate.” She bites her lip and her eyes drop.

“What is it?”

It takes a moment for Pippa’s eyes to slide back up but when they do Hecate’s breath catches at the uncertainty she sees within them.

“After the - well - after the _absolute kerfuffle_ with the Super Head and Ada’s ousting - when I kissed your cheek -  you - you - leaned into me. You were stiff as a board and I worried - I was so worried - but you leaned into my palms and - “

“There were people around.”

Pippa looks bashful. “Is that all?”

“Yes.” She hesitates. “No. I wanted - I wanted to let you - but under the circumstances - “ She shakes her head in frustration. “After the events of the day I wasn’t able to let my guard down in the way I would have liked. But I was very sorry to see you go, in the end.”

Pippa blushes and looks unhappy. “In the end.”

A strange sensation grips Hecate’s chest and she in turn tightens her fingers on Pippa’s. “I was embarrassed. And I was afraid. It would be one thing to be under the curse and beholden to Ada. But if you had become the Head - if you had been transferred ownership of my confinement - “

Pippa makes a startled movement and suddenly her hands are gripping Hecate’s cheeks. “Oh, Hiccup.”

Head bowing, Hecate feels a wave of sickness rise within her. All at once the bath feels far too hot. Suddenly the air is too thick and stifling.

She rises abruptly, water sluicing down her body as she clambers inelegantly from the tub and stands shaking - shivering - looking about wildly for a towel.

Pippa’s on her heels, handing her over one immediately and Hecate knows she’s holding herself back from hovering. She takes the cloth gratefully, even as her vision sparks and spots as she struggles to breathe around the tight bands of fear that hinders her ability to draw a full breath.

“Here,” Pippa moves to a section of wall that has folding wooden blinds and draws them back to reveal french doors. They lead to a small balcony and she wrenches them open. Cool, salty night air floods the room, causing Hecate’s skin to goosebumps and prickle even as her breathing eases.

“Here,” Pippa says again and with a steady hand on her elbow guides her forward until she’s standing under the stars, the garden dark below them. Further out from there the world drops away, and Hecate can hear the steady rhythm of the sea as waves retreat and return, retreat and return, retreat and return again.

She matches her breath to the motion - though she cannot see anything but darkness - and after a long while she calms enough to realize that she’s still shivering and that Pippa is still naked beside her.

Her mind, already confused and muddled from panic, can’t make sense of it and she opens her towel and pulls Pippa in, as if believing that the cloth is large enough to stretch around them both. Pippa makes a sound of surprises, then laughs a little against her shoulder. She feels warmer with Pippa against her, although Pippa is shivering too, but Pippa presses a kiss to her shoulder, chin moving to rest there, arms about Hecate’s still wet back.

“There’s no one around to see me naked under the stars, Hiccup. Though it’s chivalrous of you to share your towel.”

Pippa’s voice is amused, but pitched low enough that Hecate realizes she’s fighting through emotions too.

“There’s so little I can give you.”

She pulls back at the realization, but Pippa cups her cheeks once more. Hecate notes her hands are shaking and realizes its not just from the cold.  

“That's not true.”

Ruefully, Hecate shakes her head and opens her mouth only for Pippa to stop her.

“I need you.” Pippa presses her forehead to Hecate’s sternum and Hecate feels her wet, hot tears join the now cool bathwater on her skin. “You might not realize how much. But I need you so much that sometimes it frightens me. All these years I thought things were the way they were between us because you knew that I needed you and it was too much. That it was far too much to ask of you - and yet I couldn’t stop - I could never seem to _stop_ \- “

Hecate can’t think of what to do, only can think to curl her fingers under Pippa’s chin and pull her tearstained face up until their lips meet, crashing together like the waves below, again and again and again. “I need you, too,” she gasps once they’re both quite breathless. “I thought the same - that my need - my want - would scare you. Destroy you. That it would be too much to ask of you as well.”

Pippa’s clinging to her, and in the faint light of the stars and glow from the bathroom behind them, Hecate can see her own need reflected in Pippa’s eyes.

“Hecate?” There’s so much question in Pippa’s voice. Such longing. And Hecate lets her mouth find Pippa’s again, kissing her in what she hopes reveals her answer.

Drawing back she rests her forehead against Pippa’s. “I’m here.”

They’re both still shivering and suddenly Hecate finds herself in a warm, white robe. Finds Pippa’s hands pulling the fabric up more tightly around her shoulders as her nose brushes against Hecate’s own. And Pippa must guide her then, for she remembers little else before she’s sitting on the edge of the bed while Pippa uses a spell to dry the tips of her hair where the longest bits have dragged in the bathwater.

Warm and dry, Hecate finds exhaustion once more turning her weak. Her eyes can hardly stay open to track Pippa’s movements. She doesn’t want to let her out of her sight. Doesn’t ever want to let her go again.

But Pippa stays close. And soon she’s being guided out of the robe and under the covers. And then Pippa’s warm body is nestled back beside hers, tucked into and against her own. And Hecate can only sigh, eyes heavy, body heavy, mind heavy.

The world goes dark, and in that, there is a bit of peace.

____

She wakes suddenly the next morning. Abruptly. Instantly uneasy.

Before so much as opening her eyes she is far too aware of the unfamiliar room.

Of the breaking waves of the ocean in the distance.

Of the headache that pulses in her temples.

She squints in the gray morning light and turns her head, pushing herself up on an elbow to look down on Pippa beside her. She’s once again sprawled on her stomach, once again has one arm pinned beneath her in a way that Hecate thinks can’t possibly be comfortable. But Pippa doesn’t stir and Hecate swallows down guilt at how glad she is for that.

Best that Pippa stay asleep and not witness Hecate’s turn towards moodiness and irritability. Or her sudden and intense desire to be alone.

Her skin feels too tight and she pushes back the covers, hunting along the floor for her borrowed clothes. The uneasiness doubles as she pulls back on the leggings and finds the sweater of Pippa’s that she’s taken to wearing. It hangs limply in her hand, the pale cream garish to her eyes, the soft fabric so different from the starched press of her usual dresses.

Dresses that are hanging in her Cackle’s wardrobe a hundred miles away.

Dresses she is not sure she belongs in anymore.

But she hardly belongs in Pippa’s things, she thinks darkly. Hardly belongs anywhere now. Except, perhaps, by Pippa’s side.

She gazes down at the wool between her fingers and clenches her teeth. There’s a deep uncertainty thrumming through her. She scarcely knows who she is now. All she knows - all she can bear to know - is that this cream charade will never do.

Her magic feels sticky and slow and the fabric in her hand turns a drab and uneven gray rather than the black she’s intended. She pulls it on anyway, preferring it, pretending that it’s still her choice. She’s become apt indeed in pretending what is and isn’t her choice. 

She rises, glancing at Pippa’s still form before stealing from the room.

The guilt follows her.

It makes her feel hot and slightly sick. She doesn’t breathe again until she’s out the front door and standing on the porch gulping in the morning air. There’s a mist hanging in a layer between the earth and the sky - it seems to be coming off from the sea - and she steps cautiously forward, the flagstones cool and damp against her still bare toes.

Her feet meet the grass and she sighs, the hot sick sensation shifting a little to make room for the deep inhales of salty sea air she swallows down. She starts forward and takes a slow turn around the house, noting the different flower beds, and fruit trees, and herb gardens.

Pippa’s tarragon plantings are choked with weeds. They seem resistant to the Weed-No-More spell she senses is cast about the rest of the garden, more than likely it’s the tarragon reacting to the ingredient of the brew used for such a spell. She makes a note to help Pippa with a swap to prevent such a breach and the knot in her chest loosens a little further.

Spying a spade and a pair of pink gloves on the porch she gathers them, tracking back to the weedy patch and sinking to her knees as she begins to work the meddlesome networks of roots free. The work continues to loosen the mood she’s in, and as the sun begins to burn away the mist above, she feels warmth on her neck and raises an arm to wipe at the sweat that beads along her brow.

She’s worked through at least half the patch when she hears the front door opening she she sits back on her heels to watch Pippa pick her way along the garden path.

“I wasn’t sure if you were up for company.” She’s carrying two mugs and holds one out to Hecate. “But I thought you might like some coffee.”

Hecate pulls off a glove, once again mystified and yet grateful that Pippa has been able to read her so well, and takes the mug. “Thank you.”

Pippa smiles, fingers curling around her own mug and she surveys Hecate’s work. “It looks like you’re making fine progress here. This patch has really needed the attention.” She takes a sip of her coffee and regards Hecate over the lip of her mug. “If you’re all set, would you mind awfully if I went for a run?”

It’s an out, an offer for Hecate to continue to have some much needed time to herself, and Hecate gazes up at her in gratitude.

“I’ll finish up this section then.”

Pippa brushes a hand over Hecate’s hair and Hecate leans into it, watching as Pippa starts back up the path. She sets her coffee aside and retrieves her glove, busying herself back with the weeds to calm her mind.

A short while later, she hears the door open again and sees Pippa come out in bright leggings and an very small, very strappy band of cloth over her chest that makes Hecate flush. Pippa waves merrily and Hecate watches her jog off through the garden gate, disappearing down the lane. She can’t help the flutter in her chest, the way her lips curl up, and she moves a bit faster through the weeds, a sudden idea sparking in her mind.

Finishing quickly, she rises, knees stiff and protesting, and she stretches herself out by taking another turn around the garden while gathering necessities. She then returns the spade to the porch and deposits the gloves, spelling her feet clean before stepping into the house. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the indoor light, but once they do she finds herself pleased with the cool indoor air and the still, utter silence of the house.

In the kitchen she deposits her gathered herbs on the large table, squinting at Pippa’s shelves of cookbooks before selecting one that looks the most basic.

 _Breakfast_.

She skims the contents.

 _How to cook eggs_.

It’s just like making a potion, she tells herself sternly, and hunts through the pantry, adding to her pile of ingredients. It’s an odd sensation to open the icebox and draw out a number of eggs. To slice bread by hand. To stand over the burners, squinting at them until she determines that the way it lights is not via spell work but by a small knob that she turns until the flame catches.

Then it’s all about cauldron temperature - or rather _frying pan_ temperature - and slicing ingredients. She watching them transform in the pan and thinks it's like magic.

And though she doesn’t end up catching anything alight, she does have to muddle over why salt and pepper ought to be added to a food. Miss Tapioca certainly has refrained, she guesses. But when she mixes a bit to a small potion to test the knowledge of _Muriel Mayhaps_ , the books author, her eyebrows raising in surprise at the taste. She follows the cookbook after that without question.

Pippa’s just coming through the door as she turns off the flame and fetches the toast out from the oven.

“Hiccup?”

Pippa’s looking at the table where Hecate’s set two places, her mouth open in surprise. Hecate’s found a small vase in which she’s set some flowers, turning it so that the brightest, prettiest ones are angled to face what she’s determined to be Pippa’s seat. The eggs steam in their pan on the stove behind her, the toast, with it’s melting butter, plated on the table. Hecate flushes.

“I thought we might have breakfast together.”

Pippa’s still staring. “How did you -”

Shifting with embarrassment Hecate nods to the still open cookbook. “I hope it’s edible.”

Suddenly Pippa’s crossed the room in three strides and her arms are up around Hecate’s neck. “It’s _wonderful_.”

“Well, you having tried it yet.”

Pippa laughs and draws back. “It smells _wonderful_. And I’m sure you did marvelously.” Her hands linger on Hecate’s hips as she leans away from her. “Sorry, I’m all sweaty.”

“ _You_ are _wonderful_ ” Hecate echoes Pippa, blushing at how eagerly the words come, and Pippa’s pink cheeks grow pinker.

Hecate can’t help but trace a finger along the crest of Pippa’s clavicle, dipping into where the sweat has gathered there. The tight binding she wears draws Hecate’s eyes lower, and Pippa laughs again, as if she knows just what Hecate’s thinking.

“It’s a sports bra, Hiccup. You can take it off me after breakfast.”

Hecate startles and Pippa’s grin is a happy one.

“I can?”

“Mmm, you can do a lot of things, I think you’ll find.” She leans in and kisses Hecate, mouth soft and warm, and gone too soon. “Lets eat. I’m starving. And more than a little turned on about how you’ve gone and gotten around my kitchen so skillfully.”

“Once again, I must caution you.” Hecate serves them as Pippa sits. She eyes the egg and vegetable mixture with apprehension though Pippa hasn’t stopped smiling. “You haven’t tried it yet.”

She sits as well and watches with anxiety as Pippa takes her first bite. She doesn’t know what to expect, but when Pippa reaches out and takes her hand across the table, when her eyes shut and blink open, happiness writ across her face, Hecate glows.

“You’re a natural.” Pippa declares.

And Hecate, completely disarmed by the praise, blushes magnificently.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My being there might have lessened Broomhead’s abuse of you, but you saved yourself, Hecate.”
> 
> Hecate shakes her head. “I didn’t do anything of the sort. I learned The Code and learned to live by it. I gave up my parents' values. I gave up on saving Indigo. Nothing heroic can be said about that.”
> 
> “You learned to survive.” Pippa’s thumbs brush along her cheekbones and her palms are warm against Hecate’s face. “You survived. You survived all those years. You survived all that hurt.”
> 
> She blinks and suddenly all Hecate can see are Pippa’s eyes. Warm, and brown, and filled with light.
> 
> “Hecate, you’re free now.”

She holds Pippa’s hand through the meal and doesn’t let go. It makes eating with only one hand rather awkward, but holding onto Pippa makes her feel grounded. It anchors her. She thinks of Pippa leading her to the bathroom the night before and how Hecate had remained tethered to her then as well. She wonders if she’ll ever regain her equilibrium, her sense of balance. Wonders if years of standing on her own in involuntary isolation has made her crave this sort of contact now. Wonders if her craving for this closeness means it is a choice at all.

The eggs are wonderful. Far better than any food she’s eaten at Cackle’s in the course of forty long years. There’s a disbelief that sits heavily inside her chest that she herself has made such a thing. That making such a thing turned out to be so easy, once she’d been given the free reign to try.

She can’t face the tears that rise in her eyes at the thought - the frustration over her circumstances, frustration at her own frustration -  and she pushes her chair back at the same moment she releases Pippa’s hand.

The headache she awoke with flares in full and she gathers up their plates, turning to the basin and beginning to scrub. Pippa’s shown her how to use soap and a sponge the night before, and she tackles the task with studied concentration, glad for the distraction and the moment of privacy that turning away from Pippa grants her.

But Pippa - always so astute, always so attuned to her - follows behind. Stands with one hip to the counter and Hecate can tell she’s being studied. The frustration she feel with herself intensifies, along with a sort of helpless horror that only seems to fuel her already off-balanced emotions.

“I should hate for you to feel afraid to ask me questions.”

Her lips barely move from the effort it takes to work out such a sentence and she blinks around the pain that pulses acutely in her left temple. She scrubs hard at a plate, though it is already clean.

Pippa continues to study her for a long moment and then reaches out and touches her elbow.

“I don’t want to make things worse for you. But, yes, I was hoping we could talk a bit.” Her hand moves in and takes the soapy plate from Hecate, setting it in the sink before she reaches across and shuts off the water. “Dishes can wait. Come with me?”

It’s a request. Pippa once again gives her a chance to select her own path forward. After a moment Hecate wipes her hands on a dishtowel and nods, following Pippa from the kitchen and across the sitting room, over to a pocket door in the wall which Pippa hauls open. Behind it is a library. Books fill the space of all walls, except for one corner in which large, lead-glass windows give way to the sunny garden beyond. There’s another door to the side, and Pippa tugs her through. It opens to a small greenhouse which Hecate quickly realizes has been configured into act as a cozy potions lab.

She turns on the spot, taking in the workbench and single stool. A mortar and pestle sits beside an empty cauldron. Bunches of ingredients hanging along one wall, with vials and jars on a shelf just behind her. It’s not as neatly organized as the rest of the house, and Hecate realizes that Pippa must spend a good deal of time in here.

“I thought that if we had to have a less than pleasant conversation, we should have it in a place that might feel more or less familiar to you.”

“Unpleasant conversation?” Her stomach drops and she has to close her eyes as her head twinges again. “Is it that you want me to leave?”

It’s too much. It’s much too much. She’s been a rather terrible guest, she supposes. Perhaps there are things one does as a guest that she hasn’t known to do. Or perhaps Pippa has sensed her mood this morning. And now she understands what a burden it will be to have her in her life when she’s so helpless and foolish.  She feels herself sway, despair and pain rendering her weak, and Pippa’s hands are suddenly on her elbows.

She sucks in a breath as Pippa eases her onto the stool. After a moment, the world comes back into balance and she opens her eyes ready to face her fate.

“Hecate.” Pippa’s eyes are soft and she moves her hands up to Hecate’s shoulders, leaning back against the workbench. She looks Hecate over once more and sighs. “I don’t want you to leave. And I am sorry to bring this up. It’s just you’re leaking magic everywhere.”

“I - leaking -?”

Pippa sighs again and squeezes Hecate’s shoulders. “You haven’t been using magic since you came to Pentangle’s. Not really. Here and there - but -” she eyes Hecate’s mottled gray-charmed sweater and bites her lip. “You were feeding me magic all through breakfast. And when I’m not touching you, you seem -” she breaks off again and shakes her head. “How bad is the pain?”

Hecate gapes at her. “I - “

Too many thoughts are crowding in her brain for her to think straight and she winces, pulling away from Pippa only to immediately reach for her once more as the headache clenches down around her at the loss of contact.

She grips Pippa’s hips and tries to think. “I didn’t realize.”

“You’ve had a lot happen to you.”

Pippa’s hand is against the back of her head and she pulls her in so that Hecate’s forehead rests against the naked flesh of her abdomen just below the line of her sports bra. Gentle fingers hold her head steady, playing with the short hairs that curl at the nape of her neck.

Hecate allows herself a sigh.

“You’re not afraid of me?”

Pippa laughs and Hecate glances up.

“Of you? Never.”

She’s pulled back in and shuts her eyes, losing herself in the comfort of being close to Pippa.

“But you were there - you were there that year with Broomhead -”

The fingers in her hair still for a moment, and then Pippa steps closer. Her arms wrap around Hecate’s back and Hecate straightens a little so that Pippa’s chin comes to rest comfortably on the top of her head. She can smell Pippa’s sweat, feel where she’s still damp from it. Her own hands tighten on Pippa’s hips and she presses her face into the fabric just above Pippa’s heart.

“Broomhead was brought in because you stopped using magic after Indigo.”

There’s realization in Pippa’s voice and Hecate slowly nods. She feels Pippa sigh once more.

“It makes more sense now. I could never understand it. A witch with as much skill and power as you had refusing to use your gifts? I knew on some level that Broomhead came because your body couldn’t contain all that unused magic and it was making you -”

Pippa stops short and Hecate presses her forehand more firmly against Pippa’s chest.

“It was making me unpredictable. Uncontrolled. Dangerous.” She lets out a shuddering breath, her heart aching as she makes her next confession. “I was behaving with as much recklessness as Indigo had been and I couldn’t help it. Just as she couldn’t help it.”

“It amazes me,” Pippa begins, and her voice is slow, hesitant, “that your punishment for going out into the non-magical world was a lifetime confinement. I can’t understand it. Especially because the ban was lifted when the spells that gives us protection from non-magicals were developed just a few years later.”

Hecate shakes her head. “I believe that everyone felt it was for the best to extend my sentence. Especially after Indigo.”

“You were a child.” Pippa’s voice is tight and Hecate swallows, pulling back so she can look up at Pippa’s troubled face.

“Yes, and I cost another child her entire life.”

Pippa grips her back. “What about your life? There are such parallels between you and Indigo Moon. No family. Isolation. Loss of magical control. Barred from the world for thirty-years, the both of you.”

“I think,” Hecate tries, though the words feel thick and heavy in her mouth. “That the confinement was never really about my leaving the castle in the first place. Not really. ”

“It was about your parents.” Again, there’s a note of realization in Pippa’s voice and Hecate looks down and away, fighting shame.

“You know they were political adversaries of The Great Wizard. They were imprisoned already when I came to Cackle’s. And Indigo was the ammunition they needed to keep me in a jail without a trial, I suppose. I think - well - I think His Greatness wanted to make sure that the Hardbroom bloodline was well dealt with. And I, the last of the Hardbrooms - “

Pippa makes as sharp sound and Hecate looks up at her.

“Pippa -?”

“I’m sorry.” Pippa’s voice is tight. Her eyes red. She’s trembling a little under Hecate’s hands but when she cups Hecate’s face it’s with utter gentleness.

“So Cackle’s really was your prison. And they brought in Broomhead to make you a compliant prisoner.”

Through her own tears, Hecate has to smile.

“Well, they certainly tried. But I don’t think they expected a snooty transfer student to demand to know why only one girl in our year was getting private lessons. I believe you told Broomhead and Alma Cackle to their faces that you were _‘Every bit the witch that Hecate Hardbroom is,'_ and that you _“Demanded to be included in the special lessons.’”_

Pippa laughs and wipes at her eyes. “I did say that. But I didn’t think I was half the witch you were.”

Hecate stares at her. “You didn’t?”

“No, I didn’t. I told them that because I knew that my parents had money and Cackle’s was desperate for donations. I knew that if I caused a scene they’d let me do whatever I wanted. And while I knew I was probably talented enough to keep up - or at least enough of a hard worker - it was you I wanted to learn from, not Broomhead.”

“You what -?”

“All I knew was that there was a gorgeous, brilliant girl who refused to perform spells and who skulked in the back of the class glaring at everyone. And when she did do magic, it was as brilliant and as gorgeous as she was. And yet despite all that, she was hauled off to secret remedial classes with a woman who positively smelled of evil -  who was well known to be in The Great Wizards pocket. All I knew was that she’d come back to the dorms with red-rimmed eyes looking positively exhausted. She’d go up to be all alone in her tower room and wouldn’t come down sometimes unless Broomhead dragged her out again.” Pippa’s forehead furrows. “I followed you once and sat outside your door. I could hear you crying.”

Hecate flushes and looks away, heart clenching in her chest at the memories.

“It was then I decided I was going to insist on being in those private sessions. I didn’t think Broomhead should be allowed to be alone with you.”

Looking up at her, Hecate feels a sharp sensation that bloom in her chest. “You saved me.”

Pippa shakes her head.

“You did.”

“My being there might have lessened Broomhead’s abuse of you, but you saved yourself, Hecate.”

Hecate shakes her head. “I didn’t do anything of the sort. I learned The Code and learned to live by it. I gave up my parents' values. I gave up on saving Indigo. Nothing heroic can be said about that.”

“You learned to survive.” Pippa’s thumbs brush along her cheekbones and her palms are warm against Hecate’s face. “You survived. You survived all those years. You survived all that hurt.”

She blinks and suddenly all Hecate can see are Pippa’s eyes. Warm, and brown, and filled with light.

“Hecate, you’re free now.”

Pippa shifts, and Hecate moves with her so that she’s tucked back against Pippa’s chest, tears mingling with the damp fabric of Pippa’s top. Her hands move to Pippa’s back, finding the warm skin there, and she presses them down until she can feel the shape of Pippa beneath them, feel her breath, feel her life.

“Free.” She hates how her voice cracks. Hate how her head swims.

“Indigo’s free too. Hecate, it’s never too late for a new beginning. It doesn't - it won’t - erase all that has happened. And I can’t promise that the rest of life won’t have challenges. But you get to choose what you want now. You get to be whatever - whoever - you want to be.”

Hecate chews on her lower lip, eyes squeezing closed at the thought. “I just want to be with you,” she chokes out. “I don’t want that to be all that I am. But I can’t - I’m not ready -”

Pippa’s hand moves through her hair and they’re quiet for a few long moments. “It doesn’t have to be all at once,” she whispers. “First, let’s think about you and your magic. I think perhaps it’s due to grief that it once more feels a long way outside of you -  I’ve read about such things. Losing Indigo must have been heart-wrenching. I understand why you stopped using magic then as well. How frightened you must have been. How clinging on to learning utter control must have seemed like a safe-haven. Even if you were learning from the likes of Broomhead.”

Hecate gazes up at her. “But I’m free now.” The word is strange upon her tongue and she shakes her head. “And so is Indigo. Why should I feel the way I do - “

“Remember what I said about newly found freedom? How good things can sometimes tend to remind you of what you’ve lost?”

Hecate nods.

“I’m sure there’s a great many things that are possible for you now that were not possible before. It must be very overwhelming.”

Hecate sighs. “I learned to control my magic. I should be able to control my emotions.”

Pippa laughs. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. And about you controlling your magic,” she tilts Hecate’s face up and Hecate lets her eyes flutter shut at the feel of Pippa’s mouth as it brushes against her own. “I think, darling, that’s the first thing to address so we’re both a bit more comfortable.”

Hecate jerks away, alarmed. “Is it hurting you?” She tries to draw back further, heart pounding in dismay, but Pippa holds her fast.

There’s a long moment where they stare at each other, Hecate crippled by anxiety while Pippa opens her mouth and nearly speaks, only to bite her lip. She shakes her head and casts her eyes skyward before settling them back on Hecate, a blush rising her her cheeks.

“It doesn’t hurt me. But it’s rather a lot of _you_ in my bloodstream, darling, and - “ she shifts a little, and Hecate feels her eyebrows lift.

“It’s not hurting you?” Without thinking she raises a hand and brushes the backs of her knuckles down Pippa’s abdomen. Pippa gasps, and the jerk of her hips give Hecate the confirmation she’s searching for. “You promise me that this doesn’t hurt?” She repeats the movement and Pippa’s head falls back, her lips parting as she gasps again.

“Hecate.” Pippa sounds strangled and Hecate drops both hands to her naked waist, squeezing Pippa’s hips as Pippa presses into her hands and whines.

“You’ve been like this - all this time?” Hecate leans forward and her lips find the well defined shape of Pippa’s ab muscles, her tongue flicking out until she tastes salt. Pippa shudders under her hands.

“All morning. But I didn’t think it was the time to bring it up.”

Hecate raises her head. “You put my comfort first.” She doesn’t know if she should be grateful of dismayed, but Pippa touches her cheek.

“My desire isn’t going anywhere, Hecate. I want you. And I think - as intense as this feels - that I want you more when you’re being deliberate about it, really. And there’s a lot that we need to talk about - that you probably need to talk about. I’d rather have those conversations than us simply fall into bed together.” She brushes a finger across Hecate’s cheek. “I want us to have a life together. And that’s going to take working through things. A great many things, I imagine.” She smiles, and then looks impish. “Though I very much have enjoyed falling into bed with you as well.”

Hecate flushes and rests her chin on Pippa gazing up at her.

“Deliberate?”

Her hand skates up the inside of Pippa’s thigh, light against the cotton of her running pants. Pippa’s fingers tighten on her back.

“That’s all you’re taking away from this conversation?”

Hecate can’t help the way the corners of her lips tug up just then or the way her own stomach dips as her fingers press between Pippa’s legs and feel how damp the fabric there has grown.

“No.” She angles her head back down and drop kisses along Pippa’s ribs. “No, I just don’t feel equipped to process the rest of what you said or how much it means to me that you feel that way. And this is a better distraction.”

She works her way over to the center of Pippa’s stomach and moves up so that her mouth leaves warm, wet attentions against Pippa’s clavicle. The salt of Pippa’s skin makes her shiver, and she presses her back, sliding off the stood so that Pippa’s pinned against the workbench. Her fingers, light as they’ve been in their exploration between Pippa’s legs, curl a little more firmly, and Pippa arches back against the table, one knee coming up to hook against Hecate’s waist.

“Your magic -” Pippa gasps.

“Is it too much?”

Pippa shakes her head but her eyes squeeze closed. Suddenly she’s jerking against Hecate’s hand, body taught, neck arching. She comes abruptly and without a sound, gasping once it passes.

And Hecate watches in surprise, and then amazement, as Pippa arches once again, this time with a sharp sort of sound that makes Hecate dizzy. It doesn’t seem to bring Pippa relief, and she’s arching again, whimpering again. And Hecate loses track until Pippa’s tugging her hand way, pushing at her shoulders, until Hecate retreats and stands staring down at where Pippa lies limp and shaking on the workbench.

With distance between them her headache returns, though more muted than before. Pippa reaches for her, tangling their hands back together with a moan as Hecate watches as her muscles contract and shiver at her touch.

She releases her and for a moment fights very consciously with her magic. It takes a great deal of effort, the act leaving her sweaty and rather shaky, her own knees weak, her own body pulsing with desire. But when she takes Pippa’s hand again, Pippa doesn’t seem as affected. She squeezes Hecate’s fingers as she lies sweat-strewn and gasping, her hair tangling amongst some dried mulberry leaves at the corner of the table.

“I’m sorry,” Hecate gasps, but Pippa slowly opens her eyes and gives her a lidded look.

“Don’t be.”

Her voice is low. Sex-clouded. And Hecate feels frustrated that she hasn’t actually had Pippa properly, that she hasn’t worked her up to their point with her hands and mouth, magic be damned.

“Are you alright?” Her throat feels tight. She feels dizzy. She wishes she were sitting down.

Again Pippa looks at her. Shifts a little and a shudder chases through her body.

“I think that once I can walk again I should go take a shower.” She gives Hecate that same hooded-look. “A cold shower.”

Pippa tugs her in and kisses the back of her knuckles. “You’re doing something different with your magic now though. I can’t feel it.”

Hecate helps Pippa sit, keeps her touch delicate as Pippa seems hypersensitive and nearly overwrought by her proximity. “I wasn’t letting myself feel a great deal. But if I do, it seems my magic stays relatively contained within my being.”

Pippa touches her cheek. “Are you alright?”

Hecate ducks a nod, embarrassed. “It’s more effort than I’ve wanted to have to deal with. But now that I’m aware of it, I think it’s for the best.”

Leaning in, Pippa kisses her forehead and slips from the bench.

“I’m going to go take that shower. Consider yourself to have free reign of the potions studio.” She cocks her head. “Of the whole house, really. But you know what I mean.”

Hecate ducks her head and kisses her chastely, though she longs to press her back and lose herself in Pippa once again, this time properly. “I do.”

With a smile, Pippa scoots past her. She nearly crashes into the door jam, her legs obviously unsteady. She leaves her with a final smile over her shoulder, looking rather over-sexed and giggly.

Once alone, Hecate lets her eyes rove around the small room. It’s a distraction, she knows, but she’s desperate for one. With her attention suddenly refocused on her magic, the ache between her legs has turned nearly unbearable. She looks around at the ingredients, longing to come up with a potion that might take her mind off the state of her own body.

But she knows her head it too fuzzy. Knows that there will be no relief until she finds some through means of her own.

There’s a small garden bench along one wall and she haltingly approaches it and sits primly. It’s ridiculous to sit primly, she supposes, not when she knows what she’ll do next. She allows herself the comfort still to at least pretend she has any dignity at all. Marshaling her breathing for a moment, she shifts her hips, swinging her legs up so that her still bare feet rest at one end of the bench. She leans back and lets her head meet the end opposite, her back secure against the wood.

For a long while she lies still, listening to the crashing ocean waves, feeling the humid warmth of the sun through the glass greenhouse roof. When her hand traces down her stomach and back up it’s all she can do to not cry out. From upstairs she can hear the sound of a tap turning on. It emboldens her. She traces her fingers up under her sweater. Finds her naked breast and run her fingers around her own nipple.

Her hips arch at the sensation and her free hand tracks lower, slipping below the waistband of her leggings as she plants her feet on the wood of the bench. She lets her knees fall open as her fingers find a spot that has her breath catching raggedly.

“Pippa,” she whispers, desperate.

As she’s always whispered desperately.

“Pippa.”

She moves more boldly, hips working against her fingers, toes curling against the wood when she finds the spot that makes her shudder hard.

There’s a gasp and Hecate bolts upright, hand still stuck between her legs, tangling in her waistband.

She stares into Pippa’s wide eyes from where she stands frozen in the greenhouse doorway.

“Hiccup -”

Pippa’s voice is very high and Hecate nearly thinks her heart might give way from shame. She tries once more to retract her hand but Pippa shakes her head.

“Don’t. Please. Don’t stop - not if you don’t want to. I can - ” she gestures a bit wildly, “- leave. Or - “ Her eyes go soft, and Hecate can’t move, can’t breath. “- or I could stay.”

Pippa takes a single, tentative step forward, then stills.

She’s obviously waiting, and Hecate forces herself to breath. She forces herself to think of Pippa arching against her the night before. How open, and vulnerable, and trusting she had been to give herself over to Hecate. To come apart in her arms.

Slowly, very slowly, she nods. And swallows tightly as Pippa moves cautiously - no, Hecate realizes, tears in her eyes, reverently - moves reverently, until she sits just behind Hecate, moving her legs up and around her so Hecate can lean back between them.

Pippa shifts a little as Hecate haltingly lowers herself back, and Hecate takes a breath, magicking a large pillow to rest behind Pippa to protect her from the hard edge of the bench's arm.

“Thank you,” Pippa whispers in her ear, and Hecate tilts her head a little so she can look back up at her. “That was very thoughtful spell work.” There’s teasing in her tone. But Hecate knows that Pippa’s not just thankful for the comfort. She’s proud of Hecate’s magic, supportive of her - just as she’s always been. The thought makes Hecate relax further, and she takes a deep breath.

The warm room feels warmer now, a charged weight growing in the air between them. Pippa keeps her hands on Hecate’s shoulders, gentle and grounding, and Hecate lets her knees fall back open, pausing again as she feels Pippa breath behind her.

“You’re so beautiful,” Pippa whispers in her ear, and Hecate bites her lip on a whimper. “You are. Seeing you like this - “

Pippa breaks off and kisses Hecate’s temple, adjusting her more firmly against her. And Hecate releases a breath, releases the remaining tension in her shoulders, as her fingers uncurl and begin to slowly work against her skin.

It’s different to touch herself while in Pippa’s arms. Each brush of her fingers against slick heat seems deeper in intensity, more thrilling in sensation. There’s a thread of of embarrassment that runs just behind each gasp and whimper, but Pippa whispers in her ear and holds her close, and Hecate loses herself in the sound of Pippa’s voice, in the motion of her own hips as they rock against her own hand, in the sweet comfort of predicting her own pleasure, of controlling each spike and thrum that flashes through her as she guides herself higher.

“Pippa,” she gasps again, turning her face so her nose is against Pippa’s neck. “Pippa.”

This time her words are not said into the a lonely night. This time she doesn’t gasp out the name of a phantom, a memory. Pippa is here beside her, and at Hecate’s acquiescence, her hands slip under the sweater, fingers splaying over Hecate’s chest. She holds her tenderly as Hecate’s fingers slip lower, slip inside herself, and she cries out, surging up into Pippa’s hands and against her own as her hips roll into her touch. She angles her thumb to work against herself and curls her fingers. Everything seems to be bleeding colors, bleeding magic. Everything is out of joint with space and time and she cries out again.

Her body is needy, her mind undone. There’s only one certainly in the world: the press of Pippa against her, the sound of her voice, the encouragements find their way through the fog of her pleasure. Pippa’s fingers find her nipples and she’s lost - lost to bright, sharp, fizzes of lightning - lost to color. Magic is spilling out of her, pent up for days, rendered blue, and red, and gold against her eyelids as it transforms in her bloodstream and leaves her as she trembles. Her body tightens around her fingers and she knows she’s crying out. She’s arching up, her neck supported by Pippa’s shoulder, flailing as she makes noises that she knows she ought to muffle.

But she’s not in the dark of her room at Cackles. She’s in the light with Pippa. And she’s not alone in her cold and solidary bed. She’s warm and coming undone in Pippa’s arms.

The very thought makes her jolt again, and she whimpers, suddenly needy.

And though she’s gone blind, Pippa’s turning her, pulling her in so they’re chest to chest, and Hecate’s clinging to her, senses muddled and body shuddering as she comes to rest in the cradle of Pippa’s hips.

“I’ve got you,” Pippa’s whispering. “I’m right here. You were wonderful, darling. You’re magnificent.” Pippa’s hand is busy stroking through her hair, the other tight against her back, and Hecate falls limp, exhaustion cutting through her even as pleasure continues to pulse its way through her blood, her magic calm and regulated once again.

She must be a deadweight, but Pippa doesn’t seem to might. Perhaps she even sleeps, for when she comes to her head is swimming heavily and her cheeks feel rather warm. She peeks up shyly, sure that she should pull away, but loathed to move from where she rests.

Pippa’s eyes look terribly bright and Hecate blushes as Pippa pulls her in for a gentle kiss.

“I thought you were going to shower,” Hecate whispers.

Pippa bites at her lip. “I was. But I came back because I had to tell you something.”

Hecate can still hear the tap running upstairs and reaches out with her magic to turn it off. She frowns a little though she feels anything but unhappy. “Was it really so urgent that you let all that water go to waste?”

Laughing, Pippa brushes her nose against Hecate’s and Hecate lets herself be kissed. It’s gentle, so gentle and tender that her heart is quite undone by the time Pippa pulls away. “Yes,” Pippa whispers. “Yes it was.”

“Well then, what was it?”

“I love you.”

Hecate huffs. “I love you, too. But I also cannot figure out what was so important that you - “

Pippa’s finger finds its way to her lips, shushing her.

“I came back,” she breathes, replacing her forefinger with her thumb. She drags it against Hecate’s lower lip and then kisses her again. “To tell you -” another kiss, “that I - “ and another, “- love you.” Pippa draws back and Hecate gazes at her, utterly arrested.

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Pippa fights back a smile and taps her on the nose causing Hecate to blink in surprise.

“Oh.” Warmth is spreading through her body. It’s even better than the pleasure that’s just washed over her and she buries her face in Pippa’s neck. “Oh.”

Pippa loops her arms about Hecate’s back and Hecate smiles as she feels Pippa’s lips come to rest against her cheek.

“Pippa.”

It comes out rather muffled given the location of her head. But she feels too overwhelmed by the surge of an unexpected and unfamiliar giddiness to reveal her face to Pippa just now.

“Hmmm?”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
